


Boy's Club

by RZZMG



Series: NextGen stories [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Explicit Language, Finger Sucking, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Frottage, Implied Sexual Content, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Ron Weasley Bashing, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RZZMG/pseuds/RZZMG
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shy, insecure Albus Severus Potter has been tasked by his father to infiltrate the infamous and super-secret club, "Skull and Serpent," led by Scorpius Malfoy and his friends. Harry Potter believes this organization may be a breeding ground for a new order of Death Eaters, and needs Al to spy for him. Wanting to impress his father and not disappoint him, Al takes on the assignment… despite the fact it may bring down Scorpius – Al's secret, long-time love interest.</p><p>1st PLACE - "BEST ROMANTIC STORY-SLASH COUPLE" & 2nd PLACE 'BEST NEXT-GEN ERA STORY" - 2012 HP FANFIC FANPOLL SUMMER AWARDS ON LIVEJOURNAL</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was my submission for the 2012 HP NEXTGEN FEST. The prompt I worked from was an image. I used the image in the story banner below (the picture of a dark haired man bowing and kissing the hand of a blond man sitting on the throne).
> 
> TIMELINE: Post-Hogwarts, Epilogue compliant (2024-2026). In this fic, Albus S. is 18, Scorpius is 18, Malcolm is 18, and Hugo has just turned 17 (all above the age of consent in the wizarding world).
> 
> To Unseenlibrarian & Ladysashi: Thank you again for the beta and the inspiration, my lovely ladies!
> 
> Thank you to the HP NextGen Fest Mods – this was a wonderful fest to participate in!

 

**_January, 2024_ **

 

Albus nibbled on the edge of his grey-feathered quill, his gaze faraway and his mind locked within, contemplating how best to explain to his father that he'd been compromised in his mission by his own feelings.

The Clock Tower's bells rang out through the castle, signalling the eight o'clock hour. Curfew would be called in another hour, and he'd have to abandon this spot in the library before then to make it back to his common room in time. He didn't want his House to be docked points again for something foolish done on his part. The hazing incident he'd suffered earlier this month had lost Hufflepuff a hundred points in total, dropping them down to third place for the House Cup this year, and his Housemates had been very disappointed in him as a result.

Rubbing a hand through his messy, black hair, he threw down his quill in disgust and slumped back into the wooden chair with a deep sigh.

Bloody bumbling hell, how could he possibly write this letter? How exactly did he go about telling the legendary Harry Potter that his youngest son's sexual preference was not what polite society might consider the 'norm'? Or, even that he thought the man was around the bend with his theory regarding the most elite club on campus, Skull and Serpent, being a breeding ground for junior Death Eaters in training? Worse, how could Albus confess that his love for his dad's number one suspect of 'all things stirring up evil at Hogwarts' was the reason he had to excuse himself from the assignment his father had entrusted to him at the start of the school year to spy on said organization?

He couldn't. If he did any of those things, he'd gain his father's disappointment, and possibly even his anger. Worse, he'd lose the man's respect.

But, if he did as asked, and found out that his father's suppositions were true, he'd be helping to bring down the Skulls – a group he'd secretly wanted to join his since second year, when it had been founded. He'd also become an absolute villain to Scorpius Malfoy, who was the club's President, as well as the boy Albus had lost his heart to that first day on the train to Hogwarts, first year.

Frustrated by his circumstances, Al wanted nothing more in that moment than to lay his head down on the desk and to just allow the world to pass him by for the next century.

There was a shift in the air currents, and he distinctly felt a presence at his side a moment later. Stretching out his feelings, he encountered a magical aura that was distinctly familiar: firecracker hot, full of churning mental energy, with that delightful vibrancy that specifically belonged only to members of the Weasley family.

Hugo. He knew it was his cousin without even having to turn his head. The guy's aura always contained an extra undercurrent of raw, untried teen lust – which was funny, since he insisted he'd lost his virginity this year to Shannon Finnigan to anyone who asked. Al never called him on the lie, though, knowing it would only give Hu a complex. Besides, Shannon didn't seem to mind the fabrication, especially since she really fancied Hugo, so no one got hurt.

"Hey, coz! Homework?" Hu asked him, a good-natured grin plastered to the guy's freckled face. He adjusted the satchel hanging over his shoulder and nudged his chin at the blank paper lying untouched on the table before Albus. "If so, you've got a long way to go."

One year younger, Hugo may have closely resembled his father at the same age, but he'd been sorted a Ravenclaw – much to his dad's disappointment. The man had ragged on poor Hu for the first four years of his schooling, making the occasional cheap shot as to how Gryffindors were better in every way by reliving his past glories at Hogwarts. Hugo had only been able to console Uncle Ron by proving to be a mint Quidditch player, having been accepted to his team as Keeper at the start of term this year.

Al couldn't help but note the irony that both he and Hu had father issues - although Al had to admit that his father was a much better man, overall. At least Harry Potter had been thrilled over his son's sorting. At least his dad had never mentioned how much prouder he would have been if only Al had been 'up to Gryffindor snuff'.

Fathers and their sons - their relationships were never easy. That was especially true for those with famous parents, like he and Hu.

As well as for those with infamous pedigrees, like Scorpius Malfoy.

Just thinking of his heart's infatuation made Al's predicament return to the forefront of his thoughts.

Hu nudged his shoulder. "All right, there, Albie-Scowlbie?"

He threw his ginger-haired cousin a flat look. "You know I hate that nickname."

Hu grinned. "Yeah." His smirk dropped, his mood changing in an instant as he sensed Albus was not amused. "Seriously, man, you okay? You've seemed… off… all year." He leaned a hand on the desk and bent closer, as if to conspire. "Does it have something to do with the Skulls? Sis said she thinks you're under too much stress from the pledging, and that maybe you should reconsider. She says you need to be more focused on N.E.W.T.s than" – he made quote marks in the air – "some ridiculous club." He huffed and shook his head. "But then you know she doesn't approve of the whole secret society thing anyway. She turned down her invite to the Skulls on that principle alone, you know. Too much like mum in that respect."

Yeah, and Rose was too talkative for her own good sometimes, Al thought. He'd wanted to be in the Skull and Serpent since second year. Unfortunately, he'd only merited an invitation  _this_ year, his last in school, after pulling his grades up to the club's minimum standards.

Although the Skulls were a mystery to outsiders, what  _was_  common knowledge was that they were very selective in their pledge program. Only those with straight "O's" in Potions, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Muggle Studies, and Charms were even considered for the candidate list. Additionally, potentials had to take and pass with an "O" at least one elective course from a specific subset of classes: Herbology, History of Magic, Arithmancy, or Healing. And they expected you to maintain those types of grades on top of any extracurricular activities you were signed up for, like Quidditch or Choir, or membership in one of the other dozens of clubs around school.

Although he'd aced most of his subjects throughout his educational career, Al had found D.A.D.A. and Arithmancy in particular to be a struggle. He had finally managed at the end of sixth year to achieve the required 'Outstanding' grades necessary to merit an invite to the Skulls, though. So, the last thing he intended to do was turn in his pin and quit, as Rose had apparently hinted to her brother that Al should do.

He couldn't wait for the day he could show off his membership pin! He was sure his dad would have kittens, but his mum would be over the moon… Full-fledged members wore special pins on their ties – an oval-shaped cameo of a white skull with two vigilant serpents coiled around it, lying on a black backdrop, encased in burnished silver, attached to a pin bar with a chain - to signify their membership status. Pledges wore a fancy, silver key-shaped pin with wings, to signify their potential.

The hazing incident two weeks ago, in fact, occurred as a result of Albus forgetting his required pledge adornment that morning.

Al wished he had someone to actually confide in about the whole process, but the Skulls' rules in that regard were very clear. So, instead of bragging to Hu, he simply said, "Yeah, but I can't talk about it. You know that."

Hugh tsk'd. "Man, I can't wait to get my invite," he said, a faraway look in his eye. "My dad was never part of any secret society back in his days here."

Al sat up in his chair and began putting his things away, sensing he would get no further in his letter writing attempt tonight. "Actually, he was. Remember Dumbledore's Army?"

Hugo snorted. "If you want to call that a club, I guess. Sounded more like a rebellion to me. Still, the Skulls… everyone wants in. It's the shite. I'm hoping to get an invite next September. My last chance."

With a sigh, Al stood up and flung his satchel over one shoulder. "Yeah, yeah. Come on," he bid, shoving his cousin's arm, "I'll walk you back to your common room."

Of course, his kind offer had absolutely  _nothing_  to do with the fact that he knew Scorpius had Prefect rounds tonight on the west side of the castle – an area which just happened to include Ravenclaw's Tower. No, of course not.

"Yeah, sure," his companion replied. "Just let me check out a book I need for research."

"Right."

Al waited what seemed an interminable amount of time for Hugo to find and then check out his book. The guy lingered by the front desk, chatting up Madam Patil, the hot librarian who had taken Madam Pince's place when the woman had retired last year. His aura was filled with lustful intention, spilling over Al and making him incredibly uncomfortable as a result. Eventually, he had to drag his hormonally-challenged cousin out of the library by the arm, realizing how much time had passed while Hu flirted.

Unfortunately, as the clock tower bell rang out the ninth hour, he realized he'd missed his window to cross paths with a certain Slytherin because they'd taken too long on the fourth floor. He went to bed that night unsatisfied and a little bitter.


	2. Chapter 2

Malcolm Macmillan was an excellent Potions partner. He was organized, knowledgeable, at the top of their class on the subject, and pleasant to talk to. He had also been Al's roommate since their sorting. The two had become best friends over the years, and were as thick as thieves. Such a close friendship was why it was impossible for Al to hide his feelings for Scorpius from the guy.

As they worked together on a Dreamless Sleep Draught in class, Mac nudged an elbow into Al's ribs to get his attention. "You're staring at him again." Although they were the only ones at their bench, he was speaking low enough that no one nearby would hear.

Albus lowered his eyes to his cauldron, feeling the heat rise in his cheeks. "Hard not to. You know what his aura does to me. He's just really difficult to ignore."

"Yeah, so you've said repeatedly since first year," Mac murmured.

Al had never grown out of his acute sensitivity towards magic. What had started out as an odd, inexplicable ability to simply _know_  if someone was telling the truth or not – simply by standing close enough to them - had evolved into the ability to actually read their emotional states by the age of eleven.

When he'd confessed in secret to Rose of these strange feelings he was having back then, she'd called him a 'magical empath'. At the time, he hadn't understood what that term meant, and he'd thought his cousin – who was  _much_  smarter than anyone their same age, taking after her mum – was making fun of him. He'd pushed her off the swing in her backyard for it, and caused her to knock-out her right, front tooth. He'd gone to bed that night without supper in punishment, even though they'd magicked her tooth back into her mouth at St. Mungo's.

By thirteen, when puberty struck, he'd been able to physically see magical auras as colours, not just sense them – but then, only if the owner was suffering a strong emotional reaction to something at the precise moment that Al was watching them.

The first time he'd seen an aura had been with Scorpius Malfoy. That day they'd been paired in Charms class to practice the _Glacius_ spell, and their wands had accidentally crossed. A spark had travelled the length of the wooden rods, jolting up Al's arm on his side. Malfoy had obviously experienced the same thing, because a second later, his aura had blazed hot with embarrassment, glowing bright specifically about his head, turning his pale hair a sharp crimson shade. He'd quickly stepped away. A moment later, he'd asked the professor if he could go on a loo break and hurried out of the room. When he'd returned near the end of class, his emotions were, as usual, back under tightly held control and there was no colour around him at all – although he did look a bit sweaty.

Al had thought that one instance a one-time anomaly, or a trick of the light, or even that Malfoy was a Metamorphagus and could change his hair colour at will, like Teddy Lupin… until he'd seen a rainbow of colourful coronas encircling other people later that weekend. It didn't take him long to figure out that this extraordinary "halo effect" was just another stage in the growing strength of his weird magical talent – just another example of how different and freakish he was compared to everyone else.

Since that time, he'd been forced to learn on his own how to hone his ability, fine-tuning it to filter the strength of emotions he received. Most days, he could shut almost all of the world's riotous impressions out, and keep them from affecting his own moods. Sometimes, however, the feelings were so powerful – especially around War Memorial Day – that if he was around too many people who were all suffering some sort of strong emotional response, he was unable to close it all out and was subsequently left with a debilitating migraine that could last for a whole day or longer.

The one glaring exception to the blocking rule seemed to be Scorpius Malfoy. For some unfathomable reason, Al was incapable of disengaging from the guy's emotional responses if they were particularly strong. He always sensed them, even from far across a room. Once, he'd even felt them from clear across the castle. That had been fifth year, when Scor had had a really bad row with Euan Nott, his best friend. He attributed being so specially tuned-in to Malfoy because he was in love with him.

Some days, that connection really worked to his favour, as he was able to determine what Malfoy was feeling and to know how to appropriately respond. Other days, it was as if there was no way to dodge the guy or escape one of his cutting remarks. After such confrontations Albus, who was shy by nature, was often left flustered and out of sorts, his aura abilities out of flux and his feelings hurt. He sensed that today was going to be one of the latter experiences; his gut warned him so with a flip and a nauseous wave.

"Here." Mac handed him some valerian root. "Cut this up into thin slices. That'll give you something else to concentrate on." He patted Al on the lower back, his hand lingering just a bit longer than might be considered acceptable. The touch was familiar, affable, but also a bit more intimate than expected. It spoke of a closeness that wasn't quite as casual as 'just friends'.

Casting a sharp sidelong glance at his roommate, Albus was a bit disconcerted to see that Mac appeared completely unaffected by his action. Was the affectionate touch an accident, or did it mean something? He knew Mac was into blokes, too, but they'd never crossed that line in their friendship, and he couldn't discern the truth this time by attempting to read Malcolm's aura. The guy wasn't experiencing any sort of heightened emotion; his aura was as calm as ever.

Either way, the touch felt good. Really, really good.

Bugger, but Al seriously needed a solid wank! It had been two days since his last pull, and clearly his hormones were beginning to kick into overdrive.

Trying to ignore how Mac's persistent contact was making his cock stir to life in his pants, Al grabbed his apothecary knife from his Potions' kit and began carving up the root he'd been given. As he made his first slice, there was a shift in the magical energies in the room. Immediately, Al knew from whom it was emanating: Scorpius was approaching their bench with a quick stride, and from the way his aura lashed out before him, he seemed extremely perturbed.

 _Probably just irritated with Euan again and needs a break before he strangles him_ , he thought. Malfoy and Euan Nott were best friends, true, but the two fought like an old married couple sometimes. They could sound downright ridiculous, too, henpecking each other. Their arguments were the only times Al could really say that Scorpius lost his cool on a regular basis. Euan apparently knew all the right buttons to push.

Speaking of pushing… Malfoy's advance was like a brush of fire sweeping before him. With every step closer, the arousing, burning sensation of his powerfully emotive magic stroked against Al's. It suddenly became difficult to breathe. Heart racing, hands trembling, Al fumbled the apothecary knife and accidentally cut himself on its razor-sharp edge.

"Shite!" he hissed at the acute sting, raising the wound to his mouth to suck at it.

His roommate's hand slid away. "Is it bad?" Malcolm asked, putting down his cauldron stirring rod and reaching for his wand on the table. "Let me see. I'll heal it."

Al shook his head as he pulled the finger out to look at it. Crimson blood welled to the surface, making his stomach turn. Shite, but he hated the sight of blood. Swallowing back the queasy feeling in his belly, he inspected his injury. It was a deep cut, but wouldn't need a trip to the Hospital Wing. "Nah, my fault," he told his friend. "I got it."

Sucking his finger again, he reached for his satchel to pull out his wand, even as Mac stepped closer with his own wand raised to help.

Before he could grab his willow wood rod and cast a simple Healing Charm, two things happened in quick succession: Mac reached for his wrist to pull his hand from his mouth, and another lash of Scorpius' anger struck out at him, making him flinch from its intensity.

Malfoy was clearly angry about something and was spoiling for a fight. Usually, Al was too reticent to fight back, but right then, he was definitely being influenced by Scor's emotional outburst, as his own feelings of irritation began stirring through his guts.

He spun about to face his long-time crush, snapping at him contentiously. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

Grey eyes glinted with surprise at being challenged. "Clumsy, Potter," Scorpius chided him with a needling smirk as he reached the bench. "Don't tell me you're going to sissy out  _again_ over something so small?"

A flush ran through Al as his pride took the hit. Everyone remembered him fainting in second year Herbology class when a baby Mandrake blew out Geoff Goyle's left ear. That Malfoy was reminding him of his tendency to have a vasovagal episode upon the sight of blood - something Al couldn't control – was not cool. "Up yours," he bit back, irate and humiliated. "It's your fault anyway. If you weren't so busy slithering up on people from behind, maybe I wouldn't have been distracted."

A narrowed, steely stare was leveled on him. "How did you know I was coming up on you if you couldn't see me?"

Shite. He'd said too much. No way could he tell Scor his secret. Very few people knew he had this funky thing for feeling out auras, and he preferred to keep it that way. He didn't want to be considered a freak. It was bad enough that the things he dreamed always came true eventually.

S _ide-step adversity with diversion_ , his father might caution him under the circumstances. Deceitful manoeuvering wasn't really his thing, in general – that was more Lily's gig - but in this case, it was probably the better option. Besides, he was feeling moody, out of sorts… belligerent. "What'd you come over here for, anyway? You and Nott fighting over curtain patterns again?" He rolled his eyes his mock disdain. "The two of you should just marry and get it over with."

Abruptly, Malfoy's aura went cold. His handsome face lost its snarky amusement, his gaze went flat and reptilian, and his emotions locked down tight. Obviously, he hadn't like the implication that he was a poof.

With a dismissive turn of his head, Scor gave all his attention over to Al's partner in the next beat. "Impromptu meeting tonight, same time as usual, same place."

Malcolm nodded in acknowledgement but kept his mouth closed, his eyes on the cauldron he'd begun stirring again. Apparently, he didn't want to get in the middle of the fight.

His message delivered, Scorpius turned on his heel and walked back to his bench to work with Euan on their assigned draught. He didn't bother to look at Al again, or to call out a parting shot, as he might normally have done. There was no reading from his aura either. Whatever had previously angered him was apparently no longer a concern.

The Slytherin Prince's odd behavior was perplexing, to say the least. Al tried to wrap his head around the last five minutes, and fuck if he could figure out how his words were worse than Scor's had been to him. Malfoy was always a puzzle, as far as he was concerned.

As he turned back to the cut on his hand, healing it with a simple wave of his wand, he realized that more important than his trip down Wallowing Way was that there was a Skulls meeting tonight! As a pledge, Albus was barred from all member meetings until such a time as he passed the initiation ceremony, so this was the first time he'd actually known when a meeting was going to be held.

If only he'd been considered for membership in his sixth year, as Hugo had so indelicately pointed out!

With an envious glance to the side, Al noted Malcolm's Skull and Serpent member pin decorating his tie.

Club and activity pins were the only adornments allowed to the standard-issue uniforms at Hogwarts, granted by the new Headmistress, Professor Sinistra, when she'd taken over the administration during Al's first year. They'd grown in popularity since. There was now a pin for the Head Girl and Boy (to go along with their individual badges), the Prefects, the Wizard's Chess club, the various House Gobstones clubs, the Duelling clubs, the Caretaking of Magical Creatures club, the Hogwarts Choir, the Hogwarts Orchestra, the House Quidditch teams, the Wizard's Card Collecting club, the Magical Law and Debate club, the International Cooking club, the Exploding Snap club, the Colin Creevey Memorial Photography club, the Potions Club, the Quilting, Sewing, and Knitting club, the Shuntbumps club, the Hogwarts Swim Team, and of course, Skull and Serpent – the most mysterious club of them all.

Being at the top of their class, Macmillan had been a member of the Skulls since the society's inception. At that time, Albus could remember that he'd thought the group sounded spiff and wanted in, but hadn't merited an invite because of his grades. Within two years, the Skulls had expanded to become the number one club to join, with students clamouring for its notice. Too shy to even raise his hand in class until fourth year, Al had remained silent, watching enviously as others around him filled the ranks of the Skulls, proudly displaying their pins.

Man, he wished he knew who had backed his application to pledge the Skulls this year! After he'd received his invite, he'd asked around to find out the name of his Sponsor. Like everything surrounding the group, though, the identity of one's Sponsor was a secret; official contact was made strictly through anonymous notes to pledges. After three such inquiries to various members, he was discreetly told not to ask again or risk having his pledge pin pulled. Needless to say, he'd put his curiosity to temporary rest.

For not the first time, he wondered if Mac had vouched for him.

He also wondered if that meant his good friend was a juvvie Death Eater in training. The guy  _was_  a pureblood, after all.

* * *

That night, Albus dreamed of Scorpius Malfoy sitting upon a regal throne, surrounded by sycophants in Muggle zoot-suits and fedora hats.

_Malfoy was beautiful, with his hair slicked back in the style he'd preferred for his first three years in school, and he wore the finest suit of all, tailored to fit by some famous Muggle designer. Albus bent over and kissed the Malfoy family insignia ring that Scor always wore on his right hand, swearing fealty to this wizard that he had adored for countless years._

_As he stared into his new master's eyes, the dream shifted._

_Scorpius' face was covered by a silver and black mask, like the ones Al had seen in the Ministry's War Memorial exhibit when he'd been ten. He wore a dark cowl that covered him from head to toe, leaving only the mask visible. Between the ominous eye slits, Scorpius was staring at him in wide-eyed terror. Unfortunately, there was no mouthpiece cut out of the mask for his screams to be heard, so his protests were effectively silenced._

_Albus saw himself from the outside, reaching up to remove the mask, but it firmly held in place. No matter how hard he pulled, it seemed impossible to take off. And all the while, Scorpius writhed underneath in pain…_

He awoke in his dormitory bed bathed in sweat, panting, his heart racing a mile minute.

"You okay, mate?" Mac asked in a hushed whisper from the bed next to his. "You were thrashing about and moaning in pain. You also said Malfoy's name a few times aloud."

Forcibly regaining his calm, Albus swallowed several times to wet his dry mouth. "I'm… fine. Bad dream is all." With that, he flopped back down and onto his side, rolling away from Malcolm so the man couldn't see his frustrated tears reflected by the flames in the magically lit heating stove in the center of their room.

It was always this way after a confrontation involving Malfoy, he silently anguished: they'd get into some sort of confrontation during the day, and then that night, he'd suffer a nightmare that would haunt him for days. Each one would be different, its message veiled in the metaphorical language of dreams. And he knew, that just like all of the others that had come before it, this dream contained a hint about the future that awaited them both.

Now, if only he could interpret what it meant…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Malcolm "Mac" Macmillan is supposed to be, obviously, Ernie Macmillan's son.
> 
> Euan Nott is supposed to be, obviously, Theodore Nott's son.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a week later that, when rounding the corner to head into the second floor corridor to finish off this week's Prefect's rounds, Al came face-to-face with Scorpius, literally.

Malfoy was walking in the direction of the Grand Staircase, presumably heading towards the dungeon, when he and Albus spied each other. They both stopped on a knut at the last second, avoiding the collision that might have occurred had either of them been less coordinated.

Al couldn't prevent his gaze dropping from his love-hate rival's eyes to the man's perfect mouth, noting how close they were. Merely a foot separated their lips…

He quickly glanced back up, not wanting to give his feelings away. Too late, Scorpius noted the glance. His silvery gaze widened in enlightenment, then narrowed in consideration. Mortified that he'd been caught ogling the guy's mouth, Al tried to step around Scor with a murmured, "Excuse me."

His adversary wouldn't let it lie, however. He stepped into Al's path, cutting him off.

When Al attempted to swerve the other way, he was again met with Malfoy's insistent person. "I said, excuse me," Al gruffed. "Step aside, please. I-"

He never got to finish that sentence, as Malfoy grabbed his arms and turning them both, slammed Al into the niche corner between the open hallway arch and the stairs. It was a dark spot as no torch or candlelight touched its shadows, and a bit hidden by the architecture. It was a good spot to ambush someone.

"I knew it, Potter," Malfoy growled in a low, rough voice as his mouth proceeded to ghost above Al's in a sensual caress. "I knew it wasn't Macmillan you wanted."

Shaken by the unexpected encounter, and by the way Scorpius' aura flickered over his with a provocative sensuality, Al could only hold his breath and wait to see what happened next. This couldn't be happening! This couldn't be real… could it? His blood was a loud roar in his ears as his heart pounded like a mad thing under his ribs.

To his enormous shock, Malfoy aligned their bodies and pressed them together. Through his slacks, Al felt his aggressor's steely erection rub against him. To his great mortification, he went instantly hard in response, his body meeting Scor's lust with his own wanton version. Scorpius grinned. His straight, white teeth were as sharp a contrast as his fair hair in the dim recess. "You want _me_ , don't you?"

Albus shut his eyes and turned his head to the side, ashamed at the triumph reflected in Malfoy's expression. Scor would tell the whole school now. He would use this to mock him, maybe even to have his pledge pin pulled. Merlin Almighty, word might even get back to his father!

"Let me go," he demanded, mortified to the soles of his shoes.

Grabbing one of his wrists, his assailant pulled Al's hand up and brought it between them. "I don't think so. I've wanted to do this all week," the Slytherin pronounced. To his utmost surprise, Scorpius brought Albus' previously injured finger to his mouth and licked over it from tip to base with erotic intent.

His gaze shot to his companion's in confusion...

...only to find the other boy's hungry, heated stare locked onto him, his full concentration on giving Al pleasure.

As Scor began sucking the finger in and out between his lips, mimicking oral sex, his tongue swirling around the single digit in this mouth, everything clicked in his head: Hogwarts' Renaissance Man – the fellow every student was envious of and secretly wanted to emulate - was bisexual! "Oh. My. God," Al whispered, understanding what this meant for his unrequited crush. "You… But… You want  _me_ ," he whispered, understanding at last what all those covert glances had meant over the past few years. He'd thought they were Malfoy's way of trying to intimidate him - to carry on the feud that their fathers had begun back during their own school days. He'd totally misinterpreted them.

His partner gave an  _"Mmmm"_  of pleasure and thrust his hips into Albus'. It took everything Al had to clamp his lips closed and to transform the sound of a loud moan into a stifled grunt instead as their cocks rubbed together through their clothing.

With a final lick, Scorpius withdrew Al's finger from his mouth, his greedy attention focused on Al's lips.

"Just a nip. I have to know…"

He closed the distance between them, finally giving them their first kiss.

Gods, it was  _incredible!_  Scorpius was desperate to have at him, reckless in his desire, as if this kiss was his only chance and he wasn't going to waste it, not even to breathe. The hold he maintained on Al's upper arms to keep him steady was bruising in its intensity, and his mouth was a ravenous animal, feasting upon Al's taste.

His heart pounding out a wild beat in his chest, Albus moved on pure instinct. He'd never kissed anyone before, so his untried technique was certainly inelegant, but he gave of himself honestly, without pretence. His fingers dug into Scorpius' hips as he held tight for purchase to the only solid thing in his world just then. Malfoy rocked his pelvis against him again, sliding upwards, his solid length stimulating every inch of Albus' straining, throbbing shaft. They both groaned at the exquisite pleasure.

Abruptly, Scorpius broke the kiss. "Turn around," he growled, reaching to undo Al's belt.

His imperious command, given in a tone that would brook no argument, shook Albus out of his haze. "Wha-?" he asked, shocked at the implication of what his partner was expecting them to do out in the open and exposed as they were. "No!" They couldn't do it here, where anyone could see! If they were caught by a wandering ghost or a passing teacher it would mean some serious disciplinary action against both of them. With only a few months left before graduation, and a Quidditch House cup on the line for Slytherin, neither of them could afford the consequences. Besides, he didn't want to have sex for the first time standing up, facing a wall in some rushed coupling, but in a bed, lying down, and with his eyes on his lover's face.

As if he'd been doused in ice water, Scorpius' aura went instantly cold again, shutting down. He shoved Al away and stepped back, his emotions once more tightly disciplined. How the man managed to turn on and off his feelings so quickly was a complete mystery, but he had incredible self-restraint.

"You've never done this before."

For some reason, Al felt the need to defend his choice. "No. So?"

"A virgin. Figures," Malfoy denounced in a low, disappointed tone. With a sigh and an annoyed  _tsk_ , he straightened his tie and walked away, continuing on his original path down the stairs at the end of the corridor to head towards the dungeon. He didn't look back once, nor call out a parting shot.

It took Al several moments to figure out what had just happened. When he did, he was seriously miffed. He'd been thoroughly enjoying that snog! Just because he hadn't wanted to take it further yet, especially under the circumstances, didn't mean they'd had to stop kissing. Being a virgin didn't mean he was untouchable or defective, for Helga's sake!

Boner throbbing and bollocks aching, he had half a mind to go chasing after the object of his lust for more, but held himself back, worried he'd be seen as some kind of desperate dog in need of his master's leg. Besides, he was feeling rather shy about what had just happened.

His first kiss… and it had been with Scorpius!

After adjusting himself so he could actually walk, Al finished off his rounds. He tried to focus on the positive parts of the encounter he'd just had, rather than how things had been abruptly cut off and left, reliving in his mind the fact that his greatest crush had a thing for him, too!

* * *

_"You're not man enough for me," dream-Scorpius stated, lounging back into the plush cushions of his throne with a lazy stretch. He gave Al a snarky smile. "Shy, boyish Albus Severus can't give me what I want… what I need."_

_As he stood before the man, fully naked, his member deflated and limp against his thigh, Al felt flayed alive by such words._

_He opened his mouth to refute, but nothing came out. Again and again, he tried to vocalize his feelings, but no sound was forthcoming._

_"Too much a coward," the object of his obsession sneered at him, his sultry amusement gone. "You'll never measure up to your family's expectations."_

_His scornful expression slipped then, and he frowned._

_"Just like me."_

When Al regained full consciousness this time, Mac was sitting on the edge of his bed, shoving at his shoulder. "Idiot," his best friend scolded him as Al was jolted awake. "You forgot to  _Silence_  your bed again. That's twice this month." His friend pushed on his chest to get him to lie back to sleep. "I've taken care of it this time, but try not to forget again. You know why."

That he often dreamt of the future was another secret that Al had shared with his best friend over the years. It had been impossible to hide such a thing from him as Mac was a light sleeper, and Al's thrashing about and moaning always woke the guy up.

Albus could feel his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. Wiping sweat from his brow with the back of a hand, he turned onto his side and closed his eyes, exhausted. "Thanks," he mumbled to his friend as sleep began to take him back into the cradle of its arms.

"Welcome," Mac whispered.

He didn't dream again that night.


	4. Chapter 4

The next morning, Al risked a peek over at Slytherin's table. Sitting in his usual spot down the end, furthest from the teacher's table, Malfoy and his friends were gathered over plates heaped with eggs, toast, beans, and bangers. The Prince of Snakes was watching him from the corner of his eye, even as Brick Flint was talking up a storm in his right ear.

Mortified at being caught peeking, Al quickly looked away, turning his attention to Mac instead. "So, um," he began, clearing his throat and lifting his tea cup to his lips, "Duelling Club tonight, right?" He took a sip of the spiced morning tea that was his favourite cup of the day.

He'd signed up for the Hufflepuff Duelling Club last year at Mac's insistence. The practical application of his classroom texts was what had helped pull up his grades in D.A.D.A., Charms, and Transfiguration, thus making him eligible for a Skulls bid. He wore the D.C.'s small, round pin prominently on the lapel of his uniform robes like a pip, as even though it was forbidden while pledging the Skulls to share one's tie with other organization's pins, he still wanted to show his pride in the Hufflepuff D.C. in some manner.

His friend nodded. "See you there?"

"Wouldn't miss it."

Mac placed a warm hand on his shoulder and squeezed. "That's the spirit we like to see in our pledges!"

Al blushed at the touch…

…and felt a blast of jealous anger directed his way from across the room.

He immediately recognized the owner of that particular aura, and paused with his cup half-way raised to his mouth again, trying to decide what to do in response. Should he move away from Mac, or should he let it lie?

He made a firm decision on the spot: no one – not even Malfoy - would dictate his friendships or their level of importance in his life. It was bad enough he let his dad's expectations push him around.

Besides, Scorpius had made it clear that he wasn't into popping cherries, so that meant there was nothing for them until Albus decided to give it up to someone. Therefore, the guy had no right to be upset at Al if he found any sort of sexual comfort from another man.

Not that he was looking in Mac's direction for that sort of thing, because he wasn't. He was thinking more in terms of a generality.

With a smile, Albus changed the subject to Quidditch, paying no matter to Malcolm's lingering touch, before finally feeling it leave off. He also attempted to ignore Scorpius' blatant irritation, which flared up several more times over the course of the meal, as he and Mac joked and talked. He didn't look towards the other side of the room, either, when gathering up his satchel and walking with Mac to classes.

Thank the Founders he didn't share any classes with Malfoy today, though, because he wasn't sure he was one who could keep up a false act for long.

* * *

It was a few days later, on a dreary, gray Saturday evening that Al stumbled across something that changed a lot of his understanding of the world.

He had decided to go on a long, solitary walk to brood over what to do about the situation with his father some more. As his feet took him in the direction of the Ravenclaw stands, he heard noises around the corner that made him stop in his tracks. It was the sound of wet, smacking kisses.

Al's first thought was to turn around and mind his own business, but then he heard something that glued his feet to the floor.

"Fuck, it hurts! Stop!"

"Shhh, pretty boy. I'll go slower. Just relax. Your first time takes some adjusting. Trust me."

He knew the owners of the voices, and as he stretched out his feelings, he recognized their auras. Hugo was having sex with Malcolm. He was losing his virginity to a man… on the grass outside the Quidditch arena.

Holy. Shit.

"That's it. Just relax for me. Let me in. Gods, you're so tight!" There was a moment's pause. "I'm in all the way now. You okay?"

Hugo was panting, and his voice was a bit pained. "No, you're splitting me in two….  _fuck!_  Okay, okay. I think… just… move slow, yeah?"

"I will. Relax for me. You're gripping me too hard and that's why it hurts. Let go, and it'll start to feel so good." Soft kisses punctuated his words. "That's it. Relax around me, my pretty boy."

Al pressed his back to the wooden wall of the stands and listened, feeling the residual heat from a Warming Charm seeping into his skin, keeping him from experiencing the cold of the outdoors. The way Mac talked Hugo through the pain and the awkwardness was sexy and romantic, and when the sounds of them began to move with increasing heat, Hu was right there with his lover, moaning and enjoying it.

This was how he imagined Scorpius might talk to him if they…

He heard Malcolm groan and murmur something unintelligible as he came, but he didn't hear Hugo give his own roused shout or moan, and thought perhaps he hadn't released. Unable to quell his curiosity any longer, he peeked around the corner.

His best friend was on top of his cousin, who was lying on his back on a woollen blanket, and they were facing each other. Mac slipped from his lover's embrace and slid down Hugo's body in a quick glide. When Malcolm's mouth was even with Hugo's still-erect cock, he stroked it in his hand a few times, and then took it in between his lips, suckling hard. Hugo groaned, planted his heels into the grass and thrust his hips up. His fingers found Mac's soft, dark hair and held on, as he let loose a string of profanity that was tinged with awe.

In the fading light, as twilight approached, Al could see everything… and the sight unexpectedly turned him on. It wasn't because of Hu, though. It was because of Malcolm. The man's loving attention to giving his partner pleasure was something Al had dreamed of always having for himself with a man his first time.

That his cousin was getting this kind of kingly treatment, when the guy had previously given no clue as to his sexual orientation, seemed a bit unfair. Still, Albus was unable to pull his eyes away. He watched as Mac expertly sucked his lover off, and as Hu's backside rose off the grass with a final thrust as he came. Al's best friend seemed to drink every drop of semen down, his throat convulsing with swallow after swallow.

When it was over, Malcolm crawled back up Hugo's limp, pale body and knelt over him. His thick cock was silhouetted in the last of the light, dipping down between their bodies, and rubbing against his lover's.

The two men kissed.

"So, what did you think?" Mac asked. "Was it everything you wanted?"

Hugo folded his powerful arms behind his head. "It was different than I expected, but yeah, it was amazing. Did you really learn how to do this from Jamie?"

Albus' eyes nearly bugged from his head. He and Hugo only knew one bloke named 'Jamie', and that was James, Al's older brother.

Mac kissed Hu again with a quick, chaste press of lips. "Yeah. Your cousin was my first. And now I've been yours." He began scrambling to get his clothing together.

Quickly, Al hid again behind the safety of the wall, continuing to listen.

"You think you're going to want to do this again?" Mac asked his lover.

Hugo was quiet for a bit. "Not sure. Like I said before we started, it's just a bit of-"

"-experimenting, yeah," Malcolm finished for him. "That's fine, if this was all you wanted. No hurt feelings on my end."

Albus heard the two of them shift about, replacing clothing, and considered a quick escape route.

"You know, Mac, I heard you say  _his_  name. Right when you came, I heard you whisper it."

There was a silent moment, and it was obvious from the flare of heated emotion that Al felt reach him that Malcolm was embarrassed by whatever gaff he had committed.

"You won't tell him, will you?"

"No," Hu said, "But I want the truth: did you secretly wish I was him the whole time? Is that why you called me 'pretty boy'? Because, let's face it, we both know Albus is much prettier than I am."

Al froze, completely floored by what he'd just heard.

"I won't tell him," his cousin promised the other man. "And I can take the truth. I won't be hurt."

Mac didn't immediately respond. It took him at least a good minute more before he did. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for that… You were fantastic, Hugo. I know you said it was just to try it out, but you should know, you're a wonderful lover. Your honest passion is a real turn-on."

"You didn't answer my question," his cousin dogged him.

Albus' palms were sweating, and he realized in that moment just how much he wanted the answer to the question, too. Had Malcolm really imagined he was having sex with Al while he was screwing his cousin?

"I didn't mean for that to happen. This was supposed to be about you. I've gone and bollocks it up," Mac despaired. "I just… never realized how much I loved him until recently. But… fuck, he's my best friend, and… he's in love with someone else, so it's hopeless."

"You mean, Malfoy," Hugo stated, and there was an uncomfortable pause. "Yeah, that's been obvious for years. Listen, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to do this with me when you have feelings for Al."

"No," Malcolm protested, and the sound of him kissing Hugo to shut him up was loud in the still air. "You should have. You wanted a good first experience, and… I just hope I gave you that. I hope this thing with Albus hasn't made you feel badly. I didn't want that for you."

Hugo gave a small huff and Al could just picture the affected smile on his face that he knew would be there. "Nah. You and me, we're good. Not sure I'll want to do this again, though. I think… I might be more into girls."

Mac's voice shifted into a lower, sultry tone that made the hairs on the back of Al's nape stand to attention. "How do you know? You've never fucked a girl. You might not like it. Besides, you haven't topped yet. I get the sense from what we did that you're not a bottom, but you might enjoy taking the dominant position instead. Want to give it a try and find out?"

"You're a horny one, you know?" Hugo laughed, and then moaned. Apparently, Malcolm was touching him somewhere that felt good.

Mac chuckled. "Yeah, Jamie said the same thing."

They started kissing again, and Al took the opportunity to slip away unnoticed, hurrying back towards the school.

He got back to his dorm room, and found it empty. Assuming the others were at dinner, he hurriedly shucked his clothes, jumped into his bed, closed the curtains and bespelled them for privacy, and wanked – hard. His fantasy involved Scorpius speaking to him as Malcolm had done for Hugo, and when he came, he released a powerful surge of seed all down his hand and across his belly, calling out Malfoy's name.

In the afters, he used his wand to clean up and then lay back in his bunk to think.

 _Malcolm_  was in love with him.

Malcolm was  _in love_ with him.

Malcolm was in love with  _him._

Yes, the idea certainly shifted Al's thoughts about his best friend in a way he hadn't expected, but it didn't change anything. He was in love with Scorpius. He wasn't sure that would ever stop, either, until he either grew out of it over time, or until the end of his very long life. Malfoy wasn't easily forgotten.

The revelation, though, cinched something in his mind that had been bothering him for months: his best friend had been the one to support his pledge in the Skulls – had to be. Which belied the question that if the Skulls were up to no good, would Malcolm want Al, the man he claimed to love, to be involved with something as nefarious as sedition? Most likely not.

The case against the Skulls was growing colder and colder the more he learned about them. He privately hoped his initial conclusions would match the reality once he was initiated and learned the truth.

At least something good had come from finding out about his best friend's secrets…

Hugo.

Gods, his cousin had fucked a bloke – and it had been his first time. For someone who wasn't sure whether they were into men or not, that had taken some serious guts. Al envied him. If only he were as confident, maybe he wouldn't still be a virgin at eighteen. Maybe then Scorpius would go there with him, since he obviously didn't like breaking people in, like Mac did.

Mac.

Fuck. What the bloody hell was he going to do about his best friend's romantic interest in him? Al wasn't in Slytherin; he couldn't hide his feelings and he was terrible at lying. Every time he looked at Malcolm now, he would be reminded that the guy wanted him in more than a platonic way, and the guilt of not being able to return such feelings would crush him. How could he deal with that, and not change the dynamics of their long-time relationship? If only he had a confidant.

Jamie.

He could ask his brother for advice. Maybe his sibling would know what to do. The guy was older, wiser, and had personal experience handling men, apparently…

His stomach growled, interrupting his train of thought and reminding him that it was dinnertime. He crawled out of bed, dropping the wards about it, and got dressed. Luckily, he didn't run into Malcolm on the way. He didn't see him or his cousin at dinner, either.

Apparently, Hugo's first time was going to be an unforgettable night.


	5. Chapter 5

At Al's Owled request, James Apparated into Hogsmeade early Sunday afternoon, and the two met out front of The Hog's Head at noon. As the two brothers sat in a corner table away from the light and laughter closer to the long bar, waiting for their Hot Buttered Rums to cool, they got down to it.

"What's this all about, then?" Jamie asked, a sly smile crossing his perpetual five o'clock shadow. "Finally figuring out that babes don't come from storks?"

Al took a sip of his drink and glanced at his brother over the rim of his glass. James was four-years his senior, and he had always looked up to the guy; he was charismatic and open, a prankster, but good-hearted. He'd been the sole Gryffindor of the Potter children, with Lily ending up in Slytherin, and Al, of course, sorted a Hufflepuff. Physically, the man's facial features were more like their mother than any of the three siblings. His dark brown hair gleamed with hints of her auburn in the sunlight and he had an big, honest smile, proving that the Weasley traits bred strong in him.

Al had always felt that he and his older brother couldn't be more dissimilar, like they'd been born to different parents on different continents (and Lily was on a whole other planet from him, as far as he was concerned). Albus Severus was the serious one of the Potter brood – the one who rarely joked, who was solemn in fulfilling his responsibilities, with his father's green eyes and coal black hair… and with the weight of living up to Harry Potter's reputation a heavy burden upon his shoulders.

Now he wondered, as he stared into eyes the same nut-brown colour of their mother's, if James was really as different from him as he'd always believed.

"I've heard some things around," he began, getting the ball rolling, "about your time here at school. Things you did."

James was a legend around Hogwarts for the hijinks he'd pulled while a student there and he knew from the grin that bloomed across his face that his brother misunderstood, thinking this was Al's meaning.

"Things you did with men," he clarified.

The grin fell. Jamie's cheeks turned bright red. His suddenly blooming aura matched. He took a long sip of his alcoholic drink, presumably for courage. "It was a phase, that's all," he admitted in a very low tone. "I'm into witches now."

Al turned his glass mug around in his hands, feeling its warmth seep into his bones, staring into the rich, dark depths of his amber-yellow drink. "I'm gay," he blurted, terrified at making the confession, but needing to get this weighty secret off his chest. If he couldn't trust his big brother with such a thing, who could he trust? "I'm not bisexual. I only like men. Well, actually, I like one man in particular. But, I've never… um… That's why I called you here. I need your advice on what to do."

James' jaw fell open. He seemed to need a moment to collect his wits, and to come up with an appropriate response, so he took another chug of his drink.

Albus decided to just throw it all out there and see where the chips would lie. He fully unburdened himself in one long declaration, starting with his strange abilities, moving on to Malcolm's unrequited feelings for him, and ending with the Skulls and his complicated relationship with Scorpius Malfoy. In between, he covered his struggle to meet their father's expectations, and his despair at his own lack of self-confidence coupled with his shyness, especially as it pertained to sex. James didn't say a word. He listened with solid attention instead, for once taking something seriously.

When he was done, Al's Hot Buttered Rum had gone cold, and an hour had passed, and now his throat was a bit sore from talking so much. But his heart and his shoulders felt a little lighter.

Jamie tossed back the last swig of his drink, and stood up, signalling Al to follow. They threw some money down on the table and left the pub, making their way back through town, towards the castle carriages. They walked with a purposefully slow gait and avoided clusters of people, talking in low voices.

"Listen, little brother, you're going to explode holding so much in all the time," James put it to him. "The world does not rest on your shoulders. You need to learn to relax, to find out what  _you_  like – not what you think others expect you to like." He poked Al in the shoulder. "And you need to just put yourself out there and stop letting fear or other people's expectations dictate your actions… and your future."

Al kicked at the snow as they walked.

That's exactly what Hugo had done last night with Malcolm – put his heart, body, and mind out there. It seemed to have worked out for him, too. He'd gotten what he'd wanted, and no one had been hurt in the exchange. The thought of doing such a thing with Scorpius, however, terrified Al. It was one thing to fantasize about slipping Malfoy the tongue, but another thing entirely to step up and take the chance for real. "Easy for you to say. You were the most popular boy in school. You've always had a handle on who you were and what you wanted. You were never shy."

"I was just as shy as you are when I was younger," Jamie countered. "I just decided at some point that I didn't like anyone telling me what to do or how to think. That's stubbornness, not confidence. Besides, it's not like I'm a model citizen. Mum and Dad would love for me to take less after Uncle George, and be more like you." He scuffed Al's hair in fondness. "Maybe if I had, I'd be in a different place in life, rather than working at the WWW in The Alley."

"Hey!" Al protested and slapped his brother's hand away.

Jamie gave a warm, rich laugh, but a beat later, he grew serious once more. "Really, Al, you just need to become more comfortable in your own skin. Part of that is exploring these new abilities you have. Find a creative way to use them to your benefit instead of resenting them so much. They're cool. I wish I could know how people were really thinking and feeling. It'd save me a load of headaches later. And who knows? Maybe these gifts you've been blessed with are the key to figuring everything out for you."

Albus glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. "And… Scorpius?"

His brother's lips pursed together and he blew a heavy breath through them. "Everyone has to face that moment when they make a big decision that changes everything. Maybe it's time you and Malfoy had it out. Just lay it all out for him like you did with me. Ask him how he feels about you."

"I… I don't think I have the confidence to do that," Al admitted. "What if he mocks my feelings? I'd be crushed."

"And what if he returns them instead?" Jamie shrugged, and a sly grin worked its way up his cheek. "You could be together right now, happily snogging out, instead of out here in the cold, whinging on about it to me."

Al stopped in the middle of the path, and threw his head back, looking up at the darkening sky above. It was getting later in the day, and even though sunset was creeping closer to six o'clock as the days passed, the cloud cover above made it seem like nightfall would be upon them very shortly. "But, Malcolm… it would hurt him if Scor and I… if things worked out there. I don't want that."

James sighed. "Malcolm's going to hurt no matter what so long as you don't return his affections. You're not responsible for his feelings, Albus, and you can't give up your own happiness for his."

He was right, of course. Albus knew that in his heart. Still, he hurt for Mac, knowing that a broken heart was a horrible thing. "What about this thing with the Skulls? I want in, but what if Dad's right and they're up to no good? I'd have to turn them all in."

His brother shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and began walking again. Al hurried to catch up. "My advice is this: listen to your own instincts as far as the Skulls are concerned. Do you trust Malcolm's judgment? You said he's in the group, right? If so, then you can bet he wouldn't do anything to put you in danger, especially since he has feelings for you that run deep. If you have doubts, though, you should talk to him about it. He might not be able to reveal club secrets or anything like that, but maybe he can ease your doubts."

Al flushed with that familiar sinking shame every time he thought about the task his father had asked him to undertake. "I feel almost like… like a dirty cheat, or something. Playing this game. Ratting on my friends." Clenching his fists at his sides, his anger gripped him hard and shook him. "I feel so trapped by Dad and his expectations! I hate it!"

His brother stopped them again with pressure on Al's shoulder. "Is it Dad's expectations that are weighing you down, Albus, or your own?" James gave him a contemplative, narrowed-eye stare. "Sounds to me like  _you're_  the one still worried about what he thinks of you."

Al felt his heart stutter at that, the truth hitting him hard.

"Dad loves you for who you are, bro, and he'll love you even if you tell him you can't do this thing he wants anymore, and the reason why." Jamie slapped him hard on the shoulder twice and tugged on his arm to get them walking again. "Trust me. I've told him things that have nearly turned his hair gray on the spot, and he's always forgiven me."

Al tweaked an eyebrow at that. "Like what?"

His brother gave him a wicked smirk. "Let's just say that Mum and Dad nearly became grandparents at too young an age more than once. I've been a randy bastard since puberty."

Al tsk'd. "But, I'm gay. I'm not going to have to worry about that kind of thing." He slowed as a new thought occurred to him, turning his stomach over at the same time. "Shite, how am I going to explain liking guys to him? Dad's accepting of a lot of things, but this… I'm afraid he'll be really disappointed. You'll be the only one left who can carry on the Potter name."

Jamie laughed. "You worry about all the wrong things, little brother. It's telling Gran that's going to be the hard part. You know how it's been at The Burrow since Uncle Charlie told her he wasn't interested in getting married or having kids. Unless you adopt or find a surrogate, you're going to have to break the news to her about no grandbabies either. I don't envy you that conversation."

Albus winced. Yeah, there was the whole coming out to the rest of the family to look forward to as well. Eventually, he'd have to do that. He only hoped they were all as accepting as Jamie seemed. "So, you're really not… put off… that your brother's into blokes?" he asked, as they resumed walking towards their destination, the train platform visible in the distance.

"Nah," Jamie offered, settling that point with an easy roll of his shoulders "You've got to be who you are, even if the world doesn't approve."

And that attitude suited James Sirius Potter to a tee: ever the courageous Gryffindor, unafraid of all his tomorrows. If only he could borrow an ounce of that courage for himself, Albus thought he'd be a much better man overall.


	6. Chapter 6

His pledge pin bit into the soft pads of his palm as Al clenched his hand around it. 

He'd been carrying it around for the last three days, seriously considering whether to chuck it in the bin or put it back on his tie. He was still fifty-fifty on that decision.

For the past few days, he'd been given strange looks by Skulls members and other pledges for daring to remove the pin, but to his surprise, no one reprimanded him. He wondered if everyone could sense just how close he was to calling the whole thing quits, and they didn't want to add any undue pressure, just in case.

Or maybe they were just happy he was considering dropping out. Who knew for sure, as the whole  _bloody_ organization was one big, festering secret?

After his conversation with James, Al had returned to Hogwarts with a lighter heart, still indecisive on a number of issues, but at least feeling as though he had someone to fully confide in should he have need. That tremendous burden he'd carried around for years seemed somehow less than before, and it was a good feeling.

His near-euphoria came crashing down moments later as he passed through the Viaduct Courtyard on his way back into the Entrance Hall. There, bundled up against the cold and hanging out together, were Brick Flint, Delilah Vaisey, Violet Zabini, and Scorpius Malfoy. Flint was sitting on a bench talking with Vaisey, while Slytherin's Prince was standing behind them, engaged in a heated snog with Vi as he pinned her to the column with his bigger body. Steam rolled off them from the heat they generated, and their breaths escaped as white, puffy clouds that encircled them as they kissed.

Witnessing the scene made Al's step falter, and his heart seize in his chest.

He'd known Vi was Malfoy's sometimes-girlfriend, and over the years, he'd seen them do more than just kiss. When he'd assumed Scor wasn't into guys, he'd been able to put public scenes like this one in their proper perspective, and not be so hurt by them. However, since that night they'd passionately embraced in the second floor corridor's hidden nook, everything had changed. Now Albus knew that Malfoy was into men, too – into  _him_ , specifically. So, observing the man he'd been locking lips with not that long ago in a passionate embrace with someone else caused an eruption of emotion from Al that he hadn't expected: anger, jealousy, betrayal, pain. It all melded together inside him until he felt ready to burst from the hurt.

Instead of causing a scene, though, he'd used that excess energy to fuel his footsteps onwards into the castle, to get to his common room, and into his empty dorm. There, he'd shucked his jacket and hat and scarf, throwing his boots against the wall with violence, and then he'd sat on his bed, trembling, with his head in his hands, trying in vain to stop the hateful tears that sprang to life in his eyes.

Since then, he'd been in protective mode, closing himself off to the world. He'd spoken very little, eaten even less, and spent most of his time trying to decide what it was he wanted out of life, and what he expected from himself. He went to class, turned in his homework, but his heart wasn't in any of it. He felt… severely diminished, and wondered if this was how Mac felt.

Approaching Greenhouse Three, he opened the door and found Professor Longbottom spraying some purple concoction all over the baby Mandrakes. They cooed in pleasure as the special fertilizer sprinkled over them.

His instructor turned at the sound of the door opening and greeted him with a cheerful wave. "Ah, Albus, hello! 'Fraid there's nothing left to do here today. I'm just finishing up the last of the watering."

As part of his pledge requirements, Al had to volunteer at least three hours a week helping out one of the professors, as mandated by the Headmistress for all non-academic clubs that had a membership period. He usually preferred to work with Professor Longbottom, as he tended to learn more outside the classroom than in it when it came to apothecary ingredients that could be harvested from the plants around the castle. Since he found a peace in working with plants, he always sought out the Herbology teacher first for all extracurricular volunteer opportunities.

Disappointed that he would find no temporary distraction from his worries, Al sighed. "Nothing at all? Not even re-potting?" That was the worst chore in the greenhouse, as some of the soils used were mixed with manure of varying types, but he'd take it – especially today, when his mind needed the calming chore of working with his hands to quiet his restless mind.

His professor shook his head. "Sorry. No re-potting until May." He gave him an encouraging smile. "By then you'll no longer be a pledge though, so I suppose you won't be coming here anymore to help tend the plants." His gaze dropped to Al's tie, and the smile fell. "Where's your pin? Didn't lose it, did you?"

Shame at letting down his favourite teacher flushed through him. Professor Longbottom had gone go on and on with his praise when he'd found out Al had received his bid to pledge the Skulls this year.

He shook his head and held his hand out and opened it. The pin lay in the centre of his palm. "Didn't lose it. I just… I'm not sure anymore."

"You're not thinking of throwing in the towel, are you, mate?" Orin Longbottom asked, startling him. The Gryffindor son of the Herbology professor – in the same grade as Al - came into the room from where he'd been hovering around the door, a concerned expression on his face. His Skulls membership pin flashed from its seat near the top of his tie. "But you can't!"

Professor Longbottom frowned at his son. "Orin, don't push. I'm sure young Albus here can make up his own mind. He's perfectly capable." He slapped a good-natured hand on his arm. "If the Skulls isn't your thing, Al, then you make the right decision for you about what is – and don't let anyone tell you differently." He glanced over at his son with a censoring expression.

"But-" Orin made to argue, but was cut off by Mac's arrival.

"Just thought I'd check up on our pledge and see how he's doing," he cheerfully announced. He sauntered up to them, throwing a knowing grin at Al, and then turned his attention to the teacher. "Potter's fulfilling his requirements, right? He's not any trouble?"

"Oh, Al's been a brilliant help this year," Neville Longbottom stated. His hand on Albus' shoulder squeezed in thanks. "No problems whatsoever."

Mac rubbed his hands together. "Excellent. Do you need him this afternoon?"

The Professor shook his head.

"Good. Then I can borrow him for a bit," he stated, reaching out and grabbing Albus' arm, tugging him back the way he came.

Before Al could so much as lodge a protest at being manhandled in such a manner, they were out of the greenhouse and back inside the castle. Mac stopped hauling him about as they crossed over into the Charms corridor.

"So, why have you been avoiding me for the last few days, and what's this about you turning in your pin?" his roommate asked, crossing his arms and leaning against the opposite wall from Al.

Al took up a stance mimicking his friend and glowered at him. "That was a private conversation."

Mac rolled his eyes. "Look, we're friends, yeah?"

"Still doesn't give you the right to eavesdrop on me."

Mac looked both ways down the corridor and then grinned at Al with a naughty smirk. "Albus, I've been eavesdropping on you since we first came here and we were sorted into the same House."

"Sounding a tad stalkers there, Mac," he half-jokingly warned.

His friend flipped a nonchalant hand through the air. "Come on, Al. You're the son of the most famous wizard in history. When are you going to get it through your thick head that you're in a class that's different from the rest of us, and are going to be scrutinized more closely by everyone around you as a result?"

Al's tiny bit of growing humour faded, and he fervently shook his head. "My father's life does not dictate mine!" he growled.

The moment the words left his mouth, he knew them for the lie they were, and he hated himself for not having the courage that Jamie had promoted to do something about it and change his destiny. It was just so hard to imagine letting his dad down, though. He worshipped the man. The thought of his disappointment was almost agonizing.

If only he'd been more Gryffindor…

His brother was right: Albus would forever be measured up against his famous father so long as he continued to walk the path he'd set for himself.

Frustrated, he clenched his hands… and his pledge pin bit into his flesh. A sharp ache bloomed.

"Fuck!" he hissed and opened his hand to see if he'd broken skin. No blood. Well, at least one thing had gone right this week.

Mac crossed the space between them and took the pin from Al's hand. He held up the bronze key-shaped piece of jewellery. "This pin means more than you can possibly imagine, Al. You received it because someone didn't see your father's worth in you, but  _your_  worth as an individual. To them, you weren't just Harry Potter's son, but Albus Potter, a wizard in his own right. I can't tell you anymore, but… please don't give it up. I think you really could bring something unique to the Skulls."

Albus sighed, tired of the debate. The idea of giving it up had been foolish to begin with, anyway. If another generation of Death Eaters was being groomed, and he'd turned away from exposing that knowledge in advance, he'd forever blame himself for any wrong-doings committed by the group later.

"Okay."

His roommate stepped closer, pulling his tie up and replacing the pin where it belonged between the yellow and black stripes. Al leaned passively against the wall, tuning out Mac's magical aura. Tilting his head up to stare at the ceiling he pondered on why only Scorpius seemed to be able to batter down at his will now…

As if summoned, Malfoy turned the corner right at that exact moment. He stopped so suddenly at the sight before him that the bottoms of his shoes squeaked. For once, it appeared that Slytherin's Prince had been taken by complete surprise. The dumbfounded expression on his face might have been comical had the situation been different.

Al drew in a low, hissing breath, realizing how this setting must look.

_Bloody hell._

Mac looked over at the interloper, paused for a moment to consider him, and then turned back to Al, unfazed. "There. Your pin's back in place. Now don't take it off again." With that, he dropped the tie and stepped back. "Just remember what I said, yeah?"

Albus nodded.

"Come on," Malcolm encouraged, tugging a bit on Al's sleeve, "let's go see if we can't talk that pussy, Corner, into betting on a game of wizard's chess. I want to see you thump him for another five Galleons."

"Sure."

The two of them continued on down the corridor. As they passed Scorpius, Al's heart took off like a little bird trapped in a cage, and his mouth went dry. Malfoy ignored him; he was too busy glaring at Al's roommate.

For his part, Macmillan seemed oblivious to the resentment directed his way. He patted his fellow Skulls brother on the shoulder in a friendly fashion, and murmured in greeting, "Aye-up, Malfoy!"

They kept going, and Albus did his best to keep one foot moving in front of the other, attempting to ignore the backlash of anger that rolled over his aura from Scorpius' direction.

* * *

_"Sometimes, I really hate you."_

_Albus looked over at the throne, where Scorpius lounged. His expensive woolen suit was getting wrinkled as he slouched, cross-legged, in the oversized chair and stared broodily at Al._

_"Goes both ways," he told Malfoy with a shrug. "There are times I want to kick you – hard. Other times…" He left the thought open._

_"You want to fuck me into the floor," Scor finished for him with a knowing smirk. "Comes with being a Malfoy and a Potter, I think."_

_Al had never considered such a thing before. "Do you think our fathers felt this same way at our age?"_

_Slytherin's Prince lost his smirk. "Earlier, maybe, but by this time, they were too busy fighting a war."_

_When he sat up straight, with shoulders back and chin up, the lazy, dragon-like attitude was instantly replaced with that of the haughty patrician. A long, black cowl covered him from head to toe, and above his breast, his Skulls pin gleamed._

_"Some things are inevitable, Albus. I'm the eldest Malfoy son, and some responsibilities, I can't escape – not even for you."_

_Al shook his head, desperate, and approached the throne, holding out his hand. "You can. We both can. Jamie was right: we both just have to have the courage."_

_Scorpius only stared at the outstretched gesture, uncertain. "I'm… afraid."_

_"Me, too."_

He woke up in his bed, not sweating or shaky, but amped. Did the vision mean what he thought it did, or was it a product of wishful imagining?

He lay under the covers, staring up at the black curtain over his head until dawn, and turned over and over in his head every symbol from the dream and every word, looking for answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brick Flint is supposed to be, obviously, Marcus Flint's son.
> 
> Delilah Vaisy is supposed to be, obviously, Vaisey's daughter.
> 
> Violet Zabini is supposed to be, obviously, Blaise Zabini's daughter.
> 
> Orin Longbottom is supposed to be, obviously, Neville Longbottom's son.


	7. Chapter 7

A few days later, Al was straightening-up the Divination Tower – a task set him to meet his pledge requirements by Professor Trelawney, whose advanced age and physical frailty was beginning to show in her waning magical ability. The simplest of cleaning tasks now seemed beyond the witch's skill, and Al feared it only a matter of time before the notice came from the Headmistress that there would be a new instructor calling this Tower his or her domain.

He was just tidying up a pile of pillows that the students lounged upon during lessons when he heard the trap door to the Tower shut. Thinking that odd, he wondered if the sound signalled that Peeves was up to his usual mischief. Stepping down the amphitheatre-styled rows to check, he stopped short at the bottom to find Malfoy standing on top of the closed door in the floor.

"W-why are you here?" he asked, feeling his heart skip around under his ribs. "Isn't Violet missing you… or something like that?"

Scorpius arched a brow at that. "Why should she? It's not like we're dating."

Al threw him a doubtful expression. "Really? With all the snogging you two do, you'd think you were permanently attached at the lips." His jealousy was starting to show, he knew, but for some reason, Al couldn't seem to get a muzzle on his mouth. Something had shifted in his consciousness over the last week, and now he was beginning to feel the need for that confrontation Jamie had encouraged. Maybe it was time for him and Scorpius to have it all out.

"Vi's good for a laugh and a little practice, but it's not me she's after," Malfoy nonchalantly stated, shoving one hand into a trouser pocket. "She's trying to make someone else jealous. That isn't working out too well for her, though, because he doesn't play those kinds of games."

Not dating? Well, that changed things… a bit. Still, Al was cautious. "You never answered why you're here. What do you want?"

Scorpius' sudden irritation lit him up like a Christmas tree; scarlet and shades of blue combined to create an aura that tinted his champagne-coloured hair a pale shade of lavender. "I want you to stop sniffing after Macmillan."

Al frowned, his gaze shifting to Malfoy's tie, narrowing in on the fancy cameo-styled pin attached there. "Look, I'm not trying to persuade Mac to put in a good word with me with the Skulls, if that's what you're on about."

 _Tsking_  in annoyance, Scor strode forward with a bold step. "That's not the kind of sniffing I'm talking about…  _Albus."_

Oh, he didn't mean brown-nosing, but  _the other kind_  of sniffing.

Heat climbed up Al's face. He reacted not only at the way his given name rolled off of his crush's elegant tongue, but also for appearing so thick-witted. Normally, he was a sharper tack than that. "I'm not after Malcolm in that way."

The blond sniffed and his lips curled up into a bitter smirk. "Really? You're always touching each other. Looks to everyone like you've shagged. If you haven't, then you want to." He crossed his arms. "Deny it, I dare you."

"Why do you care who I want to shag?" Albus countered. "You made it clear you weren't interested in anything more when you walked away that night you cornered me."

Scorpius dropped his arms and sneered. "I wasn't the one who chickened out."

Yeah, they were going to have it out.

Al felt his cheeks burn and his temper flare. He hadn't been this mad since… well, in a really long time. Maybe it was about time he cut loose. "You wanted to fuck in the middle of the hallway! My first time against a wall? I don't think so! What the bloody hell were you thinking, Malfoy?"

"Virgin, my arse! Bet you're secretly Macmillan's broom!"

"You jealous arsehole," Al hissed. "I'm not like that and you know it!"

Scorpius barked a laugh, but it lacked the acrid bite it normally would have had, Al noticed. "Jealous? Me? No, I don't think so."

That didn't sound very convincing, especially when Malfoy's voice broke there at the end.

Staring into the wintry depths of his opponent's eyes, Albus instinctively knew what Scorpius was getting worse at hiding: that there was something deeper between them on his side than what he'd let on. The guy wanted more than just sex from him – that much was obvious now.

That revelation cooled a bit of Al's temper, and put him back in a position of offense, rather than defense. "You're lying, Scorpius," he disputed, feeling much calmer now that he knew he had the upper hand. "I saw your face that day outside the greenhouse. You were upset that Malcolm was touching me then. Hell, you're  _always_ upset whenever he touches me. Like that day in Potions class a few weeks ago, and all those times in the dining hall, and in the corridors when he and I are walking to class. Don't think I haven't noticed."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and sauntered right up to Slytherin's Prince, antagonizing him by tossing out a grin that attempted to mimic Jamie's most arrogant expression. "Sooooo…. how long have you been in love with me? Start of this year? Sixth? Or does it go back further?"

Malfoy glared at him.

Weeks and months and years of repressing his feelings had finally come to a head in Al's mind. Maybe it had been seeing Scorpius' reaction to the accusation of jealousy, or that heartening talk with his brother, or hearing Malcolm's confession of his feelings for him, or respecting Hugo for having the bravery to take such a risky chance his first time. Perhaps it had even been the words of encouragement from Professor Longbottom to do as he wished, without fear.

It was mostly likely a combination of all of it.

Whatever the catalyst, Al felt a burst of bravery, fuelled by a clawing desperation to finally,  _finally_  stop hiding the person he really was. He was coming out… and he was going to do it strong, like Jamie had encouraged.

Stepping around his love interest, circling him like a shark, Albus gave the heat of his attraction for Scorpius its freedom. "Did you  _really_  think Mac and I were sleeping together?"

Scorpius dropped his arms and clenched his fists, but kept his eyes insistently forward, staring off into the distance.

"Did you imagine him and me kissing? Touching each other?"

The aura around his love interest began to simmer with real, heated anger.

Albus decided to push, wanting to see where this line of questioning would lead. Their antagonism had been a living, breathing thing for so many years, and now he was beginning to understand exactly why that was. He wanted Malfoy to admit it, though – to  _accept_  it.

"Did you wonder what I was like in his bed? Or was it  _your_  bed where you pictured me?" he murmured the question, stepping closer and lowering his tone so that his words were sugar-coated in sultriness. In another calculated move, he 'accidentally' brought his taut erection into contact with the back of his companion's hand by turning ever so slightly to the side.

Arousal bloomed across Scor's pale cheeks, dusking them. His jaw tightened, and the muscle underneath gave an involuntary twitch. "Potter, keep it up and I  _will_ fuck you," he growled in warning, turning his head and looking down so they were practically nose-to-nose, "and then I'll drop you flat on that pretty, little arse I just rode."

Undaunted by what he knew was an empty threat Al refused to back down this time. Their rendezvous a few weeks ago had been a random act of circumstance; their paths had unexpectedly crossed at the same moment and there had been no pre-planning involved. This time, though, Malfoy had come to him – had sought him out purposefully to warn him off of another man - and  _that_  told Al more than anything else Scorpius had said or done to date.

He slowly rubbed his erection up the back of the other man's hand, and leaned his mouth so close that their lips buzzed against each other. Staring him in the eye, he gave the object of his infatuation a naughty, knowing smile, channelling the seductive grace that he'd watched Malcolm turn on his cousin that one evening not so long ago.

"I don't think it would be that easy for you. If I was only a simple conquest – a one-off waiting to happen - then why do you flare with jealousy every time I so much as mention Malcolm's name? Why did you come all the way up here to warn me off him? It's a long trip from the dungeon to get up here. What, were you just passing by - thought you'd drop in? How did you know I'd be here if you weren't stalking me?  _Well, Scorpius?"_

Malfoy took a deep, shuddering breath, and let it out slowly as he turned his head and closed the distance between their lips to kiss him with a gentle pull of skin and the touch of a warm, wet tongue. His knuckles rubbed over Al's arousal. "Sometimes, I really hate you," he murmured, as his lashes fanned downwards and he closed his eyes, deepening the kiss.

Al felt the lie upon the other man's aura. He knew in that moment and by the desperate need pulsing in the spirit that reached out to him, that his feelings were returned in spades by his long-time crush. He also knew that the feelings terrified Scorpius.

"Goes both ways," he whispered as he kissed him with his heart in his mouth, his stomach flipping with excitement. He reached out and held tight to Malfoy's hip as he continued to stroke his erection against the back of his hand.

Unlike the other week, their kissing this time was cautious in its passion, testing the boundaries – Al because he was still relatively inexperienced and afraid of fumbling, and Scor because he was scared of admitting to wanting more than just sex with a guy. This he instinctively knew; he could taste it on the other man's breath, and in the way he withheld just enough to keep things from flaring out of control between them. It was one thing to fuck, another to make love, and they both knew it.

"If we do this – have sex," his tentative lover warned, "it can only happen once. I can't… This can't…"

Al pulled his mouth away, brushed his lips over the curve of Scorpius' throat, even as his fingers crept lower, caressing over the man's waist, down over his hip. He traced a pattern on his inner thigh, making Malfoy's breath hitch. "Then I guess we can't go all the way quite yet," he sighed, reaching for Scorpius' zip and pulling it down with trembling fingers. "There are plenty of other things we  _can_  do, though, to make up for that."

His hand slipped through the narrow opening and gripped the hard shaft that waited for him on the other side. He gave the thick erection a hard stroke, making Scorpius gasp and tilt his head back.

Taking the reaction as permission, he dropped to his knees and hurriedly undid Malfoy's belt. Heart racing, palms sweating, terrified of what he was about to attempt with absolutely no practice (just a really well-honed imagination) he unbuttoned the man's slacks, and then hooked his fingers into both trousers and pants, pulling them down with a hard yank, desperate to do whatever it took to try to bind Malfoy to him.

His mouth went dry at the sight that presented itself.

Al had seen his share of dick over the years; he'd showered with the other guys in the Hufflepuff communal men's bath every morning, and he knew what most of the men in his family looked like, too. Nudity wasn't something he was completely comfortable with, but he'd learned over the years the correct social cues to deal with it when presented: you didn't stare, you dropped your eyes away, but you noted in a quick glance before turning away the sizes of the other penises to compare where yours stood. Al was only a little over six inches, but he was a bit thicker than normal. He was uncut, unshaven, but he did groom so he was neat down there.

Scorpius' cock was… beautiful. Long and of a solid girth, it jutted out from a nest of golden-blond, tightly-curled hair. Fully erect at around seven and a half inches and straining, it angled right for Al's mouth, as if desperate to feel his lips upon it. The tight sac underneath was a good size, too, and filled to bursting, just waiting for release. The hood of his foreskin was pulled back and tight, presenting an engorged, dark pink tip that wept a pearly-white fluid that Al was desperate to taste.

Gripping the thick stalk in his hand, he gave it a firm stroke from tip to base as he knew he liked whenever he wanked, smearing the pre-come all along its length to slicken it up. Malfoy moaned, and rolled his shirt up a bit so he could get an unimpeded view.

Albus glanced up at him as he leaned forward and rubbed his lips across the wide crown, moistening them with Malfoy's seeping fluid. "We could do this instead," he murmured, letting his tongue dart out and give a quick lick. "You could teach me how to please you. Will you drop me after, though?"

Malfoy licked his lips, and his cheeks went rosy. "Depends on how good you are at it."

Swallowing back a bout of nerves, Al shot Scor a tremulous smile. "For you, I'll give it my all."

Opening his mouth, he leaned in and enveloped the wide crest of Scorpius' cock in one go, letting it stretch his lips, tasting the salty residue around it with a greedy lick. He gave a small suck and pulled off, getting used to the texture and taste. Scorpius groaned. His thighs shuddered.

"Again?" Albus asked, wanting the wizard towering above him to admit he wanted this. "Or shall I stop?"

A dark gleam entered Malfoy's hungry eyes. "Don't stop."

Dipping his mouth downward, Al took several inches into his mouth in a single go, letting his tongue lash the sensitive underside. He didn't know what he was doing, but he recalled what he'd seen of Malcolm pleasuring Hugo, and extrapolating from his own fantasies, he tried to quickly learn the art of oral pleasuring.

Apparently, he wasn't that bad at it, as within moments, Malfoy began losing control. "Oh, fuck…" the blond Slytherin gasped in unparalleled pleasure, rocking his hips forward, "That's it. Take me as deep as you can."

Al dropped lower, trying to relax his jaw, and to figure out what to do with his tongue so he wouldn't gag. His lips caressed around the head as he pulled back, and he suckled each inch of hot, male flesh that he could as he dropped back down. One hand glided along with him, while the other reached up to cup and roll the buttery soft sac that hung before him.

The rhythm he set was intentionally slow, his touch and technique thorough and worshipping. Malfoy would never forget this moment, he was determined. No matter what came next, he would always know that the best blow of his life had come from Albus Potter.

The thick shaft overwhelmed his mouth as he stretched to accommodate the width. The muscles all up and down its substantial length flexed against the roof of his mouth. A rich, salty-earth taste coated his tongue as he coaxed pre-seminal fluid from the weeping tip with a tight swallow. Lightly, he tickled that tiny bit of skin between Scorpius' bollocks and his back entrance that Al always found to be a pleasure spot. Fingers gripped his hair with a tight hold, pulling just a bit.

"Gods…  _fucking amazing!_ "

Al chanced a glance upward. Malfoy was fast losing all control. His gaze was greedy, his expression desperate. Beads of moisture dotted his upper lip. His aura was blazing, like the sun.

"Let go, Potter. Let me have your mouth." He exhaled sharply as Al dropped low on him again. "Let me fuck that mouth of yours so I can come!"

Shaking his head, Al denied him, drawing off. "No." He licked around the crown again in a leisurely fashion. "You're not going to-"

_Lick. Suck._

"-think of me as just some-"

_Nip. Lick._

"-hole to fill."

He swirled his lips around the glans, very gently pressing his teeth into the tender skin. Malfoy gasped. Their eyes met, even as Al's tongue darted out to lash tiny licks at the same spot to soothe it.

Feeling a resolve in his chest that he'd never experienced before, Al decided then and there to go for broke.

"I don't know for certain if you've ever done this with a man before or if you ever will again," he said as he dipped lower to lick down the shaft, "but mark my words, Scorpius: I won't make this easy for you. I'm not going to be one of your forgettable conquests." He sucked at the base as his fingers stroked over the head. "This is going to mean more than just a fast blow from some random bloke. It's going to… no,  _I'm_  going to stick with you." Lapping with slick care over his lover's bollocks, his hand continued a gentle glide up and down the straining shaft. "No matter what happens after tonight, every time someone else does this to you, you're going to remember  _me_  instead, on my knees, loving your cock."

He peeked upwards again to see Malfoy's reaction to his arrogant boast.

To his surprise, his lover's brows were tightened in consternation, and his face was a mask of pain. "I know that." He closed his eyes and sounded so desolate when he cried out, "I fucking know that, Albus!"

He shoved his hips hard, letting his wet flesh slide through the tight grip of Al's hand. "Just…" He clenched his jaw and threw his head back, his medium-length, platinum hair creating a shaggy halo around his head. "Please…  _please!"_

Al felt the sorrow and the reckless need in his lover's aura. Instead of dampening his mood, though, it merely encouraged him to try harder – to give Scorpius a taste of something that he'd clearly wanted for a long time. Maybe it would even be enough to change his defeatist attitude where they were concerned.

His lips parted again, taking the velvety head between them in a shallow stroke. Malfoy thrust in and out, his need for release a relentless fire now. His strangled groans were torn from his throat as Al sucked him hard, letting his mouth enclose in a tight grip around him on every forward surge. He whimpered because going so deep hurt him a bit, but he endured and thankfully managed not to gag.

Closing his eyes, he let his tongue stroke over the heated, thick flesh, and dug his nails into Scor's thighs. He hummed around the cock fucking his mouth, betting that the added vibration would increase the pleasure.

He'd guessed right.

With a loud groan, Malfoy's hands tangled up in Al's thick hair, tightening as the rhythm of the man's driving hips increased. He could taste the flowing pre-come begin to change in consistency, thickening, becoming creamier, the taste even richer than before. His lover's scent filled his nose, and despite the bit of roughness in his thrusts, his hands caressed him with care.

And the feel of Scor's aura… Gods, such sexual hunger! It raged through him, racing and heating his blood. Never had Al felt such passionate need from another person!

He wanted so much for this to matter beyond just the moment. He wanted to do this again tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. He wanted the chance to someday be able to freely speak aloud those three, little words that had lingered on the tip of his tongue every time he so much as glanced in this man's direction.

He was terrified that Scorpius wouldn't let them be more than this, though. The idea of this really being just a one-off deal between them, and that Scor could just walk away… it hurt.  _Please, don't let me go_ , he thought, knowing it a pathetic plea. He was desperate for it to come true, nonetheless.

"Ah, bloody hell! I'm going to come!" Scor grated between clenched teeth. "Pull off if you don't-"

Albus sucked harder to shut him up, gripping the base to stroke in time to his quickening gliding lips. He wanted to sample the hot spurts of semen across his tongue and to swallow every drop of essence… and to know later tonight when he went to bed, that something of Malfoy was inside him.

He drew on him, his tongue a lash against the underside of Scorpius' cock. His grip tightened until the length was a throbbing, dark angry red colour, engorged with blood and straining.  _Let go_ , he thought, and used his own aura to entice Scorpius' into doing just that.

With a gasp and a deep moan, Malfoy released. "Potter… fuck…  _ALBUS!"_

Hot streams of sticky, fertile fluid filled his mouth in hard pulses as Scorpius came. Al struggled to swallow it all and to keep his lover's penis from slipping immediately away when it was finally over. He continued to lap over the sensitive head, cleaning it, suckling with very gentle pressure, teasing a last spurt from the tip. Scorpius groaned, and tightened his slackening grip on Al's hair once more.

He chanced a glance upwards as he placed a final kiss on the tip and pulled off. His lover was shaking, panting, red-faced, and a bit sweaty. His eyes were closed, and his face scrunched up as if he were battling internal demons.

Considerately, Al pulled Scor's clothing back into place, re-zipping, re-buttoning, and re-belting him. It was only polite since he'd been the one to take them down to begin with.

As he made to stand, the grip on his hair let go. "Potter-" Scor began, but Albus didn't give him a chance to speak, moving in and kissing him again on tiptoe. Malfoy stood a good head taller than him, so he had to stretch to reach.

"No, don't ruin it," he whispered against his partner's lips. "Just… let it be." He ran his hands up his partner's sides, and then wrapped around him, holding him as a lover. "Take a few days to think about it. I won't push you for anything you're not ready for, and we can take it slow. This was fast – just a taste for you to know what waits if…" He glanced through his dark lashes up at Scorpius' silvery gaze, and licked his lips to wet them. "We can go as slow as both of us need to. There's no rush."

"But Macmillan–" Scor began to protest.

"-is only my friend," Al reasserted, cutting him off. "I care for him, of course, but like a brother."

Scorpius let out a shuddering breath, pressing their foreheads together. "You're a virgin," he hedged, making excuses.

Albus shrugged. "And I said already, you can teach me just how to please you."

"I'm the eldest son. I have responsibilities to my family."

Finally, there was the  _real_  reason Malfoy had always held back: the conflict of personal interest versus familial duty. It was a problem that Albus had struggled with, too...

...until the minute Scorpius showed up in the Divination Tower tonight and let Al know, in his very Slytherin way, that he was in love with him back. After that, Al's brain had just, well, sort-of fuzzed over his issues concerning his father.

"We've both felt ruled by our family legacies for too long, Scor. Maybe we should let them go and live our own lives, yeah?" He pressed tiny kisses across his lover's cheek and stroked across his throat with light touches. "You have a younger brother. Ladon can carry on the Malfoy name."

"He's ten," Scorpius flatly reminded him.

"And in seven years, he'll be a wizard of marriageable age," Albus reminded him. "Don't sell him short."

"I've… been with a bloke before."

Al had already guessed that Scorpius had slept with a man at least once in his past so hearing the admission out loud didn't come as big as a surprise as he'd thought it would. "Mind if I ask who the lucky devil was, or is that a secret?"

His partner shrugged. "Euan. Once. Fifth year."

Somehow, that revelation didn't shock either. "That's why he's always sniping at you. Does he have deeper feelings for you then?"

Scor pulled back and looked down at Al's chin. His jaw clenched. "Yes."

"Do you… have those kinds of feelings… for him?"

His companion sighed. "No."

That explained the strain between the two friends. Euan wanted more, and Scorpius didn't. Just like him and Mac.

"You hurt each other over it."

Malfoy closed his eyes and frowned. A muscle ticked in his cheek. "Yes."

"Is that part of the reason why you've taken so long to come out to me?" Al asked, feeling like he was pushing and prodding, but unable to quell his curiosity of the matter.

Slytherin's Prince curtly nodded once. "It sucks to lose someone you care for, especially over sex. I'd rather not go through that again." His eyes dipped to Al's tie and he leaned back to touch it with a single finger. "We shouldn't be doing any of this, seriously. You're a pledge, and I'm a Skull."

Fuck Helga's bones, he'd completely forgotten his task! He was a  _spy_ , and it was his duty to hand over Malfoy to Ministry justice, if necessary – to betray the man he loved.

Albus' father's words tumbled about in his brain, and he struggled not to hyperventilate on the spot.

_"I'm proud of you for taking this assignment, son. I know it won't be easy. These are your classmates. Some of them may even be your friends."_

_"You're doing the right thing, Albus. All I need is proof. You can get that for me, right?"_

_"You may be preventing another war – saving lives."_

He looked up at the man he loved. Was it possible that Scorpius could really be trying to revive the Death Eaters?

From his dreams, Al got the impression that Malfoy was stuck the same as him: behind his father's reputation. He also believed that his lover didn't want to be there any more than he did. And since his dreams tended to lean towards what Rose had deemed "the pre-cognitive cipher," he tended to trust them. They'd never led him wrong, provided he'd interpreted the symbols properly.

Come to think of it, his aura powers did the same, didn't they? Perhaps they could help him to determine the truth in this instance.

"Hold still," he required, bringing a hand up to rest against Scor's heart.

Malfoy gave him a suspicious look. "What are you doing?"

Al smiled and closed his eyes, stretching out his senses to try to 'feel' his lover's magical aura. "It's a secret. As a Slytherin, you should appreciate that. Now shush so I can concentrate."

Scorpius snorted. "You're really weird, you know that, Potter?"

His smile widened. "Shhhh."

Surprisingly, his companion played along. In fact, given that he had absolutely no idea what Al was up to, he was showing a good amount of trust.

It was silent between them for a long minute as Albus tried to reach into the heart of his partner to read his intentions. He felt conflicted emotions: desire mingled with fear, joy awash with shame. It was difficult to decipher what it all meant, but for the moment, there was nothing hidden from him. Most importantly, there was no dark magic feel about him, only the white. Whatever Scorpius was up to, it didn't have anything to do with the kind of evil that would be associated with Death Eaters.

Albus felt hope writhe in his chest. Perhaps the Skulls had nothing to do with reviving Voldemort's twisted beliefs. Maybe it really was just a club that practiced Defence Against the Dark Arts, as he'd always assumed.

The aura changed, and affection bloomed. Al peeked through his lashes to see Scor watching him, an amused smile twitching up the corners of his sensual mouth.

"Does what you're doing have any connection to those coloured lights around you? Because right now, you're glowing."

Al's lids flared wide with his shock. "Y-y-you can see magical auras, too?"

Scorpius stared at him for a moment through a half-lidded gaze, as if deciding how best to answer. "Only just this second. It's a golden yellow kind of… nimbus, like the halo around a candle. It's actually a little disconcerting - like you've got some sort of heavy Hufflepuff spirit going on. It's not a disease is it? You're not catching, are you?"

Laughter bubbled forth from between Al's lips. "Dolt. It means I'm happy. You're… purplish, although it's sort of muted – like you don't want to admit whatever you're feeling and are trying to hold it back."

Those wintry depths widened. "Am I really?"

Pressing forward, Al placed a gentle kiss to Scor's soft lips. "Really. It's okay. I think I know what you're hiding, anyway. I'll just pretend I don't know, though, so your Slytherin sensibilities won't get bent."

Reaching up, Scor traced two fingers down Al's cheek, over his jaw, and across his lips. "What am I hiding, Albus? What do you see?"

Al leaned into the touch enjoying the soft stroking across his skin. "I see a heart divided that wants to be whole."

"And what's your answer for making that happen?" his lover whispered the query.

Al opened his mouth and said the one thing he knew Malfoy needed to hear – the one thing that he had finally decided for himself, right there and then, would be a really good way to live the rest of his life…

"By being who you really are, even if the world doesn't approve." In that, Jamie had been right. "Because… at the end of your life, you don't want to have regrets. You don't want to look back on the years and wish you'd had the courage to take the chances that mattered when they were offered to you. You don't want to die wondering 'what if?'." Al shyly looked down at the green, black and silver tie that decorated Scor's throat, and let his fingers trace over the diagonal lined pattern. "That's why… even though I'm really scared you're going to walk away, I'm going to take a chance tonight and tell you" – he glanced up and met Scorpius' silvery gaze – "that if you want me, I'm yours. I'll wait for you, if you need me to. I've waited seven years already. I can wait seven more at least."

Scorpius stared at him like a man offered his greatest wish come true. A brilliant flare of tenderness burst forth from him, only to be quickly rolled over by a wave of caution. "I need to think about this. I'm…"

"…afraid," Al finished for him, recalling his dream's similar words. "I know. Me, too." He shrugged. "I've finally made up my mind, though. I know who you are now, and what you're  _not_." He leaned in and gave Scorpius a smoldering smirk, letting his hand drift down between them to cup Scor's crotch. "And I know how hot it would be with you. I know I love what we just did, and that I want more. So, for that, I'll wait."

Malfoy's guardedness returned. "You're assuming I'll change my mind."

It was Al's turn to give him a mysterious smile. He stepped back, clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on the balls of his feet, energized and nearly bursting with hope. "I'm willing to take this one on faith."

Scorpius took a moment to consider him, then turned to the trap door and opened it. As he stepped down, he stopped and looked up at Al, his emotions back in check, as smoothly unreadable as usual. "Macmillan was right about you: you would bring something unique to the Skulls with that aura thing you've got going."

He tweaked another one of his charming smirks.

"As for the rest, I'll think about it, Potter. I'll think  _long_  and  _hard_  on it."

The emphasis was intentional, Al knew. He felt his cock twitch in response, knowing what he was going to do the minute he got back to his dorm room tonight.

Malfoy scampered down the metal steps and was gone out of sight in seconds.

Al waited until his footsteps below faded away, and then he jumped up and down and whooped with excitement. Finally, it was all coming together for him. Very soon, he'd get some answers, and then… then he could have a talk with his father.


	8. Chapter 8

It was seven nerve-wracking days later, after dinner, when the Skulls moved on Albus and not only were the answers to all the riddles finally revealed, but his anxiety over Malfoy's decision regarding them as a couple was laid to rest.

A black hood had been placed over his head, he'd been marched around the castle this way and that to confuse his sense of direction and he'd been magically  _Confunded_  to keep his wits scrambled, so he couldn't identify his "kidnappers". Amused at the precautions to confuse him, as his sense of direction was impeccable and his ability to read auras allowed him to know whom his captors were right away, he played along.

When they finally stopped walking around in circles through the halls, and up and down staircases, they arrived inside a room he hadn't ever remembered being in before, although he knew from the march that he was somewhere on the fourth floor, near the library. He stretched out his magical senses to "feel" the auras of those around him.

Mister Personality, Shale Finnegan, was hovering behind and to his left. Violet Zabini was situated behind and to his right. At his own back was Malcolm. Besides them, there were two others in the room: on his direct left, Gryffindor's 'Golden Boy' Justin Diggory, second cousin to the boy who'd been murdered during the Tri-Wizard Tournament more than twenty-five years before, and at his right shoulder, Brick Flint.

Al's heart rate increased as he realized what this meant: he was either being initiated into the Skulls tonight or stripped of his pledge pin and denied membership. The likelihood of either happening was about fifty-fifty, as he knew he'd not been the model novitiate.

Pressure on his shoulders was a silent command for him to sink down. He obeyed without protest, going to his knees, wondering what would be required of him as soon as the hood was removed.

A familiar aura rolled into the room with all the power of a humid summer storm closing in fast, overwhelming Albus' senses like a punch to the gut and sending his cock into a painful, tight erection almost immediately. He took a deep breath, trying to will oxygen into his lungs.

Scorpius had been ignoring him for the last week; he hadn't even looked his way once. Al had tried not to let it bother him, as he'd promised to give the man space and time to work through his issues and make a decision. Still, it had been an emotionally difficult time, as it seemed that every time he shut his eyes, all he could remember was the taste and feel of Malfoy's heavy length pumping between his lips. He'd wanked so much over the intervening days that he was seriously dick-sore. So it was probably not much of an exaggeration to believe that being in the same enclosed space with Slytherin's undisputed head boy now was almost torture to poor Albus' libido and heart.

"Are the initiates ready to serve?" Scor asked, his smooth, cultured voice as compelling as his aura.

Well, that answered the question as to what Albus was doing there. It seemed he was being indoctrinated after all.

Macmillan gave his shoulders a small squeeze, letting him know that he had permission to speak. He paused, considered it… standing on the edge of the precipice. If he went forward now and made the vow, there would be no turning back. But was he willing to join the Skulls for his father or for himself? What did he want?

_"This pin means more than you can possibly imagine, Al. You received it because someone didn't see your father's worth in you, but your worth as an individual. To them, you weren't just Harry Potter's son, but Albus Potter, a wizard in his own right. I can't tell you anymore, but… please don't give it up. I think you really could bring something unique to the Skulls."_

Mac had sponsored him, as he'd suspected all along – and the guy's aura read proud and 'clean' to Al's senses. There wasn't a niggle of dark magic on him, or the feel of lies and deceit that accompanied someone with ill intent. He should have never doubted the guy. He should have trusted his own instincts more. Whatever the Skulls were, they weren't into an anarchistic overthrow of the government. No way would Mac be involved in something like that.

And his best friend believed in him; he thought the Skulls was where Albus belonged… Yet, was this what he wanted for himself?

_"Sis said she thinks you're under too much stress from the pledging, and that maybe you should reconsider."_

Rose had always known him better than he'd known himself. Perhaps there was something to her concerns.

_"If the Skulls isn't your thing, Al, then you make the right decision for you about what is – and don't let anyone tell you differently."_

He had the support of a respected teacher and mentor to pursue the things he loved.

_"You need to just put yourself out there and stop letting fear or other people's expectations dictate your actions… and your future."_

Jamie had made the best argument of all, however. Albus had wanted in with the Skulls for years. He'd worked hard to pull his grades up so he could be recognized, and he trusted Mac and Scorpius not to be involved in anything dark magic-related. Being a member was  _his_  decision based on what  _he_  wanted, not on what his dad had required of him. Therefore, he decided that he wouldn't be tattling any secrets to his father… unless, of course, it did turn out that the Skulls were into dark magic. Then he'd have to deal with the fallout.

His money was on them being a legit organization though. He was willing to take the chance in trusting his own instincts in this case. "I'm ready to serve," he replied, putting conviction behind his words.

Flint and Diggory mimicked his response.

"Excellent," Scorpius commented with aplomb. "Then, Sponsors, please remove the hood from your charges."

With a yank and a rustle of fabric, the darkness gave way…

…to reveal a mostly empty room with tall, cathedral windows made of stained glass. Moonlight filtered down through them, casting rainbow shadows across the bare, stone floor. A large, white wooden throne was situated directly before them, its seat upholstered in russet-coloured velvet. Scorpius lounged back in its plush majesty, fully comfortable in his position of authority. Candles burned in a matching pair of standing candelabras to either side, providing the only other light in the room.

He clapped his hands twice, to a very precise beat. "Come forth all members of the Order of the Skull and Serpent."

A door off to the right opened, and in walked all of his classmates who had already passed the membership test. They filed in by twos, walking as if they were partnered up with the person at their side. Each of them wore a costume that resembled their school uniforms – but instead of the standard colours of their individual Houses striping their ties or lining their robes, they wore instead an earthy brown-dyed tie, and pitch-black robes. The House insignias that normally rested over the heart were gone, replaced with a design that merged the two types of club pins: a key with wings styled behind a silver skull, with a serpent lying in a coil around them both. In their right hands, each member gripped their wand, while in their left hand they all carried a small tea candle lantern that was magically lit.

The room filled, as the group circled around behind him and came up on his left side, to finally stop when the first members reached the throne and the last had come in through the door. As the final individual stepped through, the portal to the corridor was shut and locked, and a Silencing Charm was cast over it to ensure privacy.

It was with some strong measure of surprise that Albus recognized Professor Longbottom stepping up to Scorpius' side.

Now that was something he hadn't expected. He'd known his teacher's son, Orin, was in the Skulls, but the man himself was too?

Speaking of the devil, Orin Longbottom broke away from the group and sauntered up behind Albus, taking up a place next to Malcolm. He placed his hand on Al's right shoulder when Malcolm relinquished his hold on that side. The move made him feel as if the two blokes were sharing rights to him or something equally as strange.

A sudden seriousness swept through the proceedings. Scorpius sat up straight in his oversized chair, the entire membership stood at attention, and it was deathly quiet.

"Sponsors, you have carefully selected your recruit from amongst the top percentage of your classmates," Professor Longbottom addressed the four members who stood behind Albus, Diggory, and Flint. "They represent all of the best attributes upon which this fraternity was founded: loyalty, integrity, and strength of conviction. Their wand arms are strong, and their hearts fierce. Speak now the name of your charge, so that all in this assembly may hear it and remember."

Violet Zabini's voice rang out true. "I stand firm behind Bradley Allen Flint, also known as 'Brick'."

Shale Finnigan slapped his hands on both of Justin's shoulders and nodded with conviction. "This 'ere is Justin Noel Diggory, an' a finer man there no be. I stake me very bones on 'im." His Irish accent was strong, but clear as he beamed with pride.

Albus wanted to tilt his head back to see what his two sponsors were up to, but he kept his face front and his attention on Scorpius, looking for any sign of potential trouble. So far, the man had remained stoic, fixated on the proceedings.

"I offer my hand in life-long friendship to Albus Severus Potter," Malcolm called out with conviction.

"And I pledge my wand to him in the same spirit," Orin added.

"He is deserving," they stated together, their answer clearly rehearsed in advance of today's ceremony.

To his mortification, Al felt the unexpected sting of tears begin to prick his eyes at the poignancy of his Sponsors' words. Quickly, he lowered his gaze to the floor and blinked them away. The proclamation had been sincere from both men; he'd felt it in the marrow of his very bones. He'd also felt Malcolm's sad resignation to the fact that he and Al would never be more than what they were right then, and Al's heart ached for his best friend.

 _I'm sorry_ , he thought.  _If I could love you like that, I would._

Scorpius abruptly stood up, and this pulled Al's gaze back to him. A piercing, grey-eyed stare met his, then Justin's, and finally Brick's before moving back to Albus. "Pledges, your Sponsors have spoken of your worth and wish to add your names to our rolls. If this is not your desire as well, speak now so that you may be forever released of all obligations to the Skull and Serpent."

None of the three initiates opened their mouths.

As if expecting that response, Malfoy nodded. "Let it be noted that Justin Diggory, Bradley Flint, and Albus Potter have no dispute with their membership application."

Glancing over, Al noted that Professor Longbottom was giving him a bright smile. He attempted to return it, fighting off an uncontrollable, nervous twitch in his cheek. So far, the entire proceeding had seemed relatively benign – well, except for the black hood and kidnapping part. But then, he'd sort of expected something so ridiculous, given the hazing he'd undergone.

"Pledges: lift your right hands, palm outwards," Scorpius instructed.

The three initiates did as required.

Albus wondered if he was about to learn some sort of bizarre handshake, as he'd often heard secret societies tended to have as part of their ritual. Instead, to his astonishment, Orin and Malcolm came around and both pressed their wands into his hand. He noted the other novices similarly being armed by their Sponsors.

"Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear on your honour and your powers as wizards to serve the cause of righteousness and justice?" Malfoy asked them.

That one seemed relatively easy to answer. Albus nodded. "I do," he vowed. He heard his answer once more mimicked by the other initiates.

"Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear to faithfully serve the cause of fairness, promising to be impartial and according equal respect to all Beings – both magical and Muggle – to the best of your power?"

"I do," Albus replied. Again, a no-brainer for him.

Violet nudged Brick with her wand when he took a moment longer to answer. "Oh… I do. Absolutely," he stated in a rush, his cheeks blooming crimson. Al glanced over and noted that the guy's aura was a unique combination of lust, love, and embarrassment just then, and Al had the distinct impression from the way Flint's eyes dipped to Violet's bared legs, that those feelings were being directed at the witch.

Scorpius didn't seem to be bothered by the pause. As Master of Ceremonies, he kept the show going. "Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear to faithfully uphold the laws of the British Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards, and to defend these organizations' rights to govern Wizarding law in your capacity as Junior Auror Apprentices?"

Albus' jaw hit the floor.

_What?_

That was the big secret: the Skull and Serpent were  _Junior Aurors?_

With owlish eyes, he blinked several times, fixating on the pins on Malcolm's and Orin's ties, and slowly, everything clicked into place.

A winged key… the symbol for seeking knowledge. Perhaps it was even a symbolic homage to his father, who had once chased such an object around in an effort to open a door that would lead him to the Philosopher's Stone. That tale had been ingrained into Al's mind since he'd been a child, and it made sense that the Junior Auror Apprenticeship program would refer to its Department head in some manner.

A skull… the universal sign of secret power, signifying the right to make life and death decisions. Aurors were tasked with such burdens in the line of duty, he knew.

A serpent coiled, vigilant and ready to strike when necessary… denoting the role of law enforcement authority.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Why hadn't he figured it out sooner? Why hadn't his father?

Malcolm nudged his hand to remind him to respond. "I do," he murmured, cleared his throat, and tried again. The second time, he spoke with more conviction. His roommate grinned down at him, nodding in approval.

Vaguely, Al heard Scorpius continuing the swearing in. "Do you, pledges, so solemnly swear to obey the laws of the Skull and Serpent, including its most sacred vows of commitment to excellence, of fraternal loyalty, and of secrecy. Do you swear to protect your brother wizards and sister witches to the best of your ability, and to lay down your life for the cause of creating a world of equity, of hope, and of peace?"

Al fervently nodded as he stated an enthusiastic, "I do."

"It is time to reveal our secret mandate, given down to us by one whose wise guidance has never failed," Scorpius announced. As he stepped back, and the Sponsors moved behind their charges once more, a figure covered from head to toe in black velvet robes stepped before him. The individual was of medium height and feminine of gait. When she pushed the hood of her cloak back, Albus actually gasped aloud.

It was his Aunt Hermione.

Her warm, earthen gaze rested on him but a moment before moving to the other two recruits. "Know this, newest members: this secret order was founded during a dark time in our history. When I was a young girl, Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter, and I, along with others formed a coalition of students to fight back against those from within the Ministry as well as without who would bring about its downfall and allow the darkest wizard in our history to reign supreme."

"Dumbledore's Army," Al breathed in awe.

His aunt nodded. "Yes, Dumbledore's Army. Its purpose at its inception was to educate and prepare my generation for the fight that was to come. I fully believe that without that vital preparation, the student body here wouldn't have been in as solid a position to fight back against the Death Eaters and Snatchers who made war on this school. I have since worked with the former Headmistress, Professor McGonagall, rest her soul, as well as with the current one – Professor Sinistra – to assure that our children are prepared for the world outside the walls of Hogwarts. Hence, the mandate of Dumbledore's Army has been reinstated in recent years to recruit young wizards and witches who would be interested in pursuing a career in either the Aurors or Hit Wizards after graduation."

She turned to Scorpius. "With the help of President Malfoy, we've been able to do an admirable job of ramping up the program over the last several years."

Albus' crush gave a modest nod of his blond head in acceptance of the praise.

"Our selection process has been refined to determine those with the greatest potential to succeed," she nodded at Albus and the two recruits at his side. "The specialized and focused training you'll receive from your Sponsors, not only for the rest of the school year, but also during the summer, after you graduate, will clear the way for you to take the Auror test this winter, rather than waiting two additional years, as normal recruits would. That is, if you choose to continue into the Auror Apprenticeship Program. If not" – she shrugged – "the choice is yours, but we hope you will consider it for a career option."

She addressed the assemblage as a whole. "As we do every meeting, I call you to remember your place, members of the Order of the Skull and Serpent. The Aurors are our world's silent watchers - the ones who keep us safe from the darkness. The Skulls are their legacy – their secret second hand, should the Aurors fail in their duty. This is your charge, members all. While you wear the pin, should you be called up into action, you will answer the summons. This is part of the responsibility of membership. If this is not your wish, speak now so that you may be relieved of the burden."

She gave it a long minute, but no one stepped forward or spoke up. Everyone, it seemed was proud of their affiliation with the Skulls. Albus could feel their pride radiating from them like a warm wave. It lit up every person in the room with a golden halo.

"Let the record show that no pin was relinquished this night, and three new ones were added to our roles," his aunt intoned.

She stepped back, taking up a spot next to Professor Longbottom, and Scorpius took over.

At that point, the ceremony began to fuzz. Al was so excited to swap out his pledge pin for a member one, and to have Malfoy not only replace his House tie with a nut-brown one like the other members, but also to place his new pin on his new tie personally, that everything else seemed to fall away.

As Scor's elegant fingers adjusted the tie, and assured the pin was properly situated, the man lectured him on the responsibilities to the dress code. "And don't forget your pin again," he joked, reminding Al of the hazing incident that seemed a million years ago.

"No, sir," he replied.

Malfoy's gaze cut to his, and a lustful nimbus began cushioning around his form. He reached up to readjust the pin. "Good, because the next time, I'd have to officially reprimand you." As he pretending to fumble with the clasp of the pin, the backs of his fingers caressed Al's chest.

The sly touch quickened Al's heart rate, heated his blood, and made him realize that Scorpius was giving him a signal: he was still very interested, despite his apparent distance all week. A knot in his chest relaxed a bit at that.

Malfoy moved on, applying the member pin to Justin's tie next, but the whole time, Albus could see from the man's aura where his thoughts truly lay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shale Finnigan is supposed to be, obviously, Seamus Finnigan's son.
> 
> Justin Diggory is, as stated in the text, a distantly-related cousin of Cedric Diggory.


	9. Chapter 9

After the official ceremony came to a close, everyone crowded around the new members to congratulate them.

Orin pumped Al's hand up and down and slapped him on the shoulder. "Knew you wouldn't give up, mate. Welcome to the crazy train!"

"Thanks," Al said, "and thanks for sponsoring me. Man, I had no idea you were in on it."

"That was sort of the point," Orin told him and threw him a wink.

Malcolm stepped up next. "Congratulations, Albus." He made to shake Al's hand, but Albus hugged him instead, careful to keep it brotherly, but affectionate. Mac held on just a little longer than expected, but he did let go. "So, I guess I'll be primarily responsible for getting your training up to snuff. You have years to catch up on, in only a few months."

Al grimaced. "Don't tell me you expect me to wake up at four in the morning like you do for runs?"

Mac grinned. "Abso-fucking-lutely, mate. Welcome to the Skulls."

More people moved in, and it was a blur of handshakes, hugs, and well wishes. Al's Aunt Hermione hugged him, extremely enthusiastic that he'd "finally made it," in her words.

"So, why doesn't my dad know about this?" he put it to her. "He's head of the Auror Department. You'd think he'd know."

Hermione grinned at him. "Who do you think helped found this organization, Albus?"

Al's knees nearly gave out. "You mean to tell me that he… you… the two of you set me up?"

She had the good grace to actually be embarrassed; Al could feel it. "Well, you've always been rather shy about joining other groups, haven't you? And the thing is Harry was worried you'd flounder around after graduation with no idea as to what you wanted to do. I suggested the Skulls as a jumping off point." She fondly ruffled his hair. "You've got a set of special talents I'm told by your friend, Malcolm. Perhaps we can help you develop them. Win-win, right?"

"I'll kill him," he groused. "I agonized over this whole Juvenile Death Eaters-In-Training lie he had going for months!"

Professor Longbottom shouldered his way up through the crowd. "Yeah, Harry can come up with some creative zingers when he wants. Should've heard what he used on me to get me to be the academic sponsor of this little club of his."

"Actually, that one was mine," his aunt admitted with a wince.

His teacher rolled his eyes. "Should've known. Congrats, Al. Glad you decided to pick your own path and ended up here with us."

"Thanks, Professor," he offered.

The two moved off to speak with the other new members, knowing they'd catch up later, as their families were close friends.

Al turned…

… to find Scorpius standing behind him, patiently waiting.

"Congratulations," he offered, stepping closer.

"Thanks," Al murmured, feeling Malfoy's heat radiating between them, seeing the lustful glow about the man's whole body. The sexual tension vibrated between them.

Scorpius bent his head to Al's ear and whispered, "I've decided that Malfoys don't do regrets well. As for 'what if?' scenarios… What if you were to follow me out and down to my dorm room right now?"

"Will you drop me after?" he whispered back.

Malfoy chuckled, and the sound made Albus iron-hard in his pants. "Depends on how good you are at it."

Al was very careful, when he reached out and squeezed Scorpius' hand.

"For you, I'll give it my all."

* * *

**_  
Epilogue… Two Years Later_ **

 

Albus nibbled on the edge of his white-feathered quill, trying to concentrate on writing this bloody letter to his father, but couldn't manage to get down a single coherent thought, as Mac whinged on in his ear about his latest problem.

"Can you believe it?" his best friend griped. "Your wanking cousin has given me an ultimatum: it's him or the spider."

Al sighed, realizing that he wasn't going to get anything done so long as Malcolm had an issue that needed solving. "Well, you have to admit: it's creepy having a bonsai-bred Acromantula as a familiar. Besides, you know Hugo hates arachnids, just like his dad. Why didn't you get a Kneazle or a Bat from Mister Hagrid's Pet Emporium instead? Less mess, less chance of freaking out your lover, and they're cooler."

Malcolm folded his arms and gave a stubborn look. "But Snyder is so cute!"

"Yeah,  _now_ , when he's still a baby the size of your palm, and all fluffy white," Al pointed out. "But miniature or not, in five years, he'll be as big as a dog, with no hair, a black body, spindly legs, and pincers that can take your fingers off. You have to see how freaky that is. Personally, I don't blame Hugo. I'd kill Scor if he dared buy something like that and expected me to live with it."

"Speaking of which," Mac did an abrupt about-face in his emotions, "how are you two doing? Is your tiff over yet, or do I have to send you both into opposite corners for a time-out?"

Al shrugged. "He apologized, we're good again. It's his grandfather always sniping at him for not settling down with some pureblood witch," he explained. "It winds him up. Someday, I'd love to pop that old man in the mouth for how he twists Scor around."

Mac gave him a sly smile. "Bet that make-up sex was goooooood, though. You two were mad at each other for, what, a week?"

Al flushed hot at the memory of being tied to the bed and begging for release. "Um, yeah, so… this thing with Hu. What are you going to do?"

Malcolm stood up and stretched, shoving Al's shoulder in a playful gesture. "What do you think I'm going to do? If my Go-Go doesn't like the fucking spider, I find it a new home." He  _tsk'd_. "Shame though. I was really becoming attached to the little guy."

"You have a thing for lost causes," Albus joked. "They're attracted to you, and you just can't help yourself."

They both knew he was speaking of Hugo, who had found it difficult to stay away from Mac after their little liaison that night out by the Quidditch stands. Regardless of what he'd said about their time together as just being experimenting, Hugo had gone back for more… and more… and more. Now, a couple of years later, he and Malcolm were still unable to stay away from each other.

Sort of like he and Scorpius. Man, was his lover a sexual person. Every chance he got to corner Al alone, Al found his body bent over some piece of furniture, or slammed against a wall. Their beds at their separate residences were still very much in use, but lately, his dominant partner had a thing for doing it in semi-public places, too.

As if thinking about his boyfriend summoned the man, he felt the familiar dark heat of Scorpius approaching down the hall.

Over the years, Al had grown more comfortable with his special abilities, and had actually managed to expand them to be able to sense people coming from quite a distance off. He also was able to do so through walls and doors. Further, his ability to predict future events through dreams was something of a unique anomaly that was of great interest to the Ministry, of course. After graduation, he'd taken up the Skulls training, but that December, he'd decided that being an Auror just wasn't for him. Just as Jamie had predicted, his dad had understood when he'd explained that he had his own dreams and interests to follow, and had given him his full blessing when he'd taken the Unspeakable exam instead. He'd passed with flying colours.

Now, he used his gifts to aid the Auror Department when they had need, and he was slowly researching the mystery of his new type of magic, conducting simple experiments to see how they were affected by things like light, temperature differentials, time of day,  _et cetera_. He was also trying to determine where his talent had originated. So far, the theory from The Brains was that Albus had somehow, through heredity, picked up a piece of residual power that the Elder Wand had left within his father, its last owner. It didn't seem to be dark magic, but it wasn't white magic either. What he could do was something altogether different – like time magic. The Department of Mysteries had adopted Rose's nomenclature for it: magical empathy pre-cognition.

Right then, his empathy was telling him that Scorpius was in the mood for a good, hard fuck. He could practically taste the man's need and arousal thrumming across the distance to entice him.

"So, Mac, now that you've solved your little dilemma, how about we talk more later?" he offered, replacing his quill in its ink pot and standing up.

Malcolm gave him a narrow-eyed stare. "He's coming, isn't he?"

Albus gave him a grin. "I hope you don't think it too unfriendly for me to request that you please leave… quickly?"

His best friend snorted. "Office sex. This should be stunning. Think I'll stay and get a front row seat. I've always wondered…"

The door slammed open. Scorpius stood framed in the entrance, dressed from head to toe in soft sable robes of the most expensive cut. His platinum hair appeared amethyst purple in the glow of his aura's lust. His intense, molten iron stare locked onto Al with sexual hunger.

"Malcolm, fuck off," he growled. "NOW."

Scorpius had never quite gotten over his jealousy issues where Mac was concerned. He liked the man, but he was also incredibly possessive. It didn't matter that Al's best friend was totally into Hugo now.

Mac cleared his throat. "I'll just… um, yeah." He headed for the exit, and moved aside as Malfoy stalked passed him. "See you later," his friend called out as he hurried away, shutting the door behind him.

Albus was consumed by the wash of sensual desire that flowed over him. He gripped the edge of his desk with anticipation. "Did you get them, then?"

Scorpius stopped inches from him, reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out two identical gold bands. He placed them very carefully on top of the letter Al had been writing to his father. "They can be your motivation when you tell him." He glanced through thick lashes at him. "You know, the thought of putting that ring on your finger has had me harder than stone all afternoon, ever since I picked them up at the jewellers. I think you need to ease my suffering."

Licking his lips, Al knew just what to do to reward his fiancé.

Reaching out, he undid Scorpius' belt, and began working the buttons on his trousers. "Just a nip…" he teased and dropped to his knees before his lover, "I've wanted to do this all week."

Malfoy gave a wicked chuckle. "Now where have I heard that before?"

Just before Al could dip his head to take the luscious, pink tip between his lips, Scorpius' hand on his cheek stopped him. He glanced up into his boyfriend's eyes.

"I love you, you know."

Albus smiled, feeling the warm, cheery, hopeful love surround him. "Goes both ways."

Two hours later, Scorpius left to return home, sated and lazy. Albus knew the feeling, but he redressed and sat down behind his desk anyway, with his quill back in his hand. As he thought about the wonderful trials that his future held for him, the words he'd needed to tell his father for so many years finally flowed out of him:

 

**_Dear Dad,_ **

**_I have something I need to tell you,_ **

**_and I hope it won't change our relationship,_ **

**_b_ ** **_ut I don't want to hide who I am any longer…_ **

 

_**~FIN~** _

 


	10. Story Awards




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